The Unforgettable Fire
by Maribells
Summary: An alternate version of S2, AU from 1x12. What if Blair had gotten her wish and Nate never found out about her affair with Chuck? How would they have found their way back to each other? CB and DSN. Rated T/M.
1. The Ocean

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**Chapter 1: The Ocean**

_I climbed up a mountain, and looked off the edge  
>At all of the lives that I never have led<br>There's one where I stayed with you, across the sea  
>I wonder do you still think of me<em>

_-The Bravery_

As sun sparkled off the late-afternoon waves, Blair reclined against her beach towel, surveying the other beach dwellers through oversized tortoise-print sunglasses. A group of boys were playing football off to her right, while several couples to her left lounged under umbrellas, shielding themselves from the intense August sun. And directly in front of her, Blair watched her boyfriend Nate and her best friend Serena, splashing through the waist-deep water and laughing as the shallow waves crashed over them. It was an idyllic scene, reminiscent of so many summers the three friends had shared together throughout their privileged adolescence.

The only blemish on their otherwise perfect gathering was the absence of one member. For some reason, it was especially noticeable to Blair that afternoon, although nothing in particular had reminded her of him. Perhaps it was the boys playing football, or the young man lounging nearby wearing an incredibly pretentious straw fedora… Either way, she couldn't help thinking back to the summer two years prior, when the four of them had spent every waking moment sunbathing, swimming, and partying together. Even at just 15 years old, they'd been independent enough to enjoy all the privileges their wealthy upbringing had to offer.

The year after that, Serena had disappeared for boarding school, leaving Blair with just her boyfriend and his best friend for company. And yet, even then she hadn't felt nearly as alone as she did right now. No one had deliberately excluded her, of course, she simply hadn't been interested in dampening her newly-curled hair for the sake of chasing a Frisbee through the water. So she flipped disinterestedly through her copy of Vogue, watching out the corner of her eye as Serena was hit with an unexpectedly high wave and nearly lost her yellow bikini top. Of course, that _would_ happen to her. As if nature wanted to see her topless as badly as every other guy on this beach.

"B, come on in! The water's perfect!" Serena called out, deftly re-knotting the strings of her bikini top behind her neck.

"No thanks, I'm just enjoying the sun." Blair replied, stretching back against the sand.

Really, she should be happy that her best friend was finally enjoying herself, after several pathetic months spent mourning her breakup with Dan Humphrey, as if that could really be considered a loss. The first month or so, Blair had difficulty even coaxing a smile out of her normally effervescent friend, who was interested in nothing but whining about Downer Dan and how badly she missed his mundane presence. That the person who finally turned Serena's frown upside down was none other than Blair's own boyfriend really shouldn't have perturbed her. The past was in the past, after all, and Blair trusted both of them implicitly. Still, she felt slightly melancholy as she watched them frolic together through the waves, giggling like a couple of 5-year-olds after a sugar binge. Sometimes she couldn't help feeling like the outsider in their little threesome- like she detracted from, rather than contributed to, their happiness.

"_How about we throw out a tennis ball and see which one of them brings it back first?"_

Chuck's derisive voice echoed through her head, and she snickered at the mental image. Admittedly, she did miss having someone to help her mock Nate and Serena, galloping around like a pair of un-housebroken puppies. Sometimes being the only sharp-witted one in the group was more of a burden than a blessing.

"Are you sure you don't want to get in the water, B? It's like 70 degrees in there today." Serena bounced down on the towel next to her, sprinkling droplets of water, as well as probably glitter and sparkles and sunshine, off her well-toned body.

"No really, I'm right in the middle of something." Blair replied, perusing an article on nautical stripes and their re-emergence on the fall runways.

Nate appeared on the other side of her, toweling off his tanned torso. "Hey, I should probably get headed back to the house, my mom wanted me to help with… floral arrangements, or something."

"Oh, I can come with you. I just need to pack up my things." Blair began gathering her beach accessories and tucking them into her tote bag.

"Oh, don't worry about it, you should stay here with Serena." Nate responded, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

Blair paused her packing and looked up at him. "Are you sure? I'd be happy to help."

"No, it's no problem. We've got everything under control. I'll just see you at the party tonight, okay?" Nate didn't wait for her to respond, leaving an indifferent kiss on her cheek before grabbing his flip flops and heading back across the sand.

Glancing over at Serena, who was busy spreading tanning oil on her already perfectly-hued legs, Blair wondered if she was just being oversensitive. Nate was a guy, and guys didn't care about party planning and floral arrangements. Well, most guys, anyway. He probably thought he was doing her a favor by excusing her from setup work. And sure, they'd barely talked all afternoon, but he'd been dozing in the sun or playing in the water most of the time. She was definitely overreacting.

"Certainly seems like you're feeling better, S." Blair commented, leaning back onto her elbows.

Serena smiled, tilting her face towards the setting sun. "Yeah, I guess I just realized… I was happy before Dan, so… why shouldn't I be happy after Dan?"

Put that way, it sounded so simple. Surely Blair could apply those words of wisdom to her own life? She'd certainly been happy before everything had happened last year. She and Nate had been the perfect, meant-to-be-together pair, the couple that all other couples envied. She'd forgiven him for his transgression, gotten over the horrific betrayal her boyfriend and her best friend had kept secret from her for months. And Nate had come back to her, enticed by her sudden mysterious happiness and apparently not realizing what he had until it was gone. Everything would be different this time, he'd promised. Having experienced losing her, he would no longer take her or their relationship for granted.

And he had been true to his word, for at least a month or two. He'd been more attentive, sending her flowers, calling her every night before bed, and actually listening when she talked about her day. Finally Blair had the perfect Harlequin-novel boyfriend she'd always imagined, and she was convinced nothing would ever intrude on their happiness.

But as days went by, and reality set in, Nate's efforts had gradually subsided, and things returned to their former comfortable routine. Blair had no specific complaints, as he was always well-behaved and considerate towards her. And given all the family issues he'd been dealing with lately, she really couldn't blame him for being somewhat distant. But sometimes- usually while half-asleep, or after a cocktail or three- she couldn't help thinking back to those few weeks last fall, when she'd felt so free, so relaxed... so wanted.

Settling back against the sand, Blair willed her mind to drift off, far away from her own secret transgressions and the restless feeling they still left in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

><p>"You like that?" She purred, letting her long blonde hair trail over him as she kissed up the inside of his thigh, before taking him back into her mouth.<p>

"Mmm hmm." Chuck murmured impassively. The girl was obviously very skilled- she must give a lot of head- but for some reason, this whole tryst was taking quite a bit longer than he'd anticipated. _Probably shouldn't have had that fourth martini_, he thought to himself… although, in a sober state he was unlikely to end up in this situation at all. Laura was a 6, maybe a drunk 7, but she'd been practically panting after him for months, so he figured if she wanted to blow him that badly, he might as well let her. The girls at his boarding school weren't quite up to Manhattan hotness standards, but at least they were easy, which saved him a lot of effort.

Watching her work her mouth up and down his firm cock, he anticipated the tightening sensation that would indicate he was close to release- and yet, still nothing. If he didn't take action soon, this could easily go on for hours. So closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to drift off into sweet fantasy. Silky mahogany curls swaying against his abdomen, her pouty red lips and delicate pink tongue teasing against his skin, those innocent brown eyes batting at him wickedly as she took him fully inside her mouth. She was kneeling between his knees, her demure white blouse and plaid skirt contrasting seductively with the very naughty moans vibrating against his length. Chuck groaned in pleasure as he felt the tip of his cock brush against the very back of her throat, arching his hips up to stay inside her as long as possible. As her tongue lapped once more against his sensitive head, he grasped a handful of her silky locks, gasping uncontrollably as he released deep into her throat. Lost in a haze of gratification, he could almost convince himself it had been real.

Until reality intruded, in the form of an eager blonde sophomore crawling up next to him, clearly hoping he would return the favor. Finally spent and anxious to be rid of her, Chuck stretched both arms behind his head before reaching down to pull up his boxers.

"Well Laura, as enjoyable as that was, I'm feeling rather fatigued…"

Her eyes narrowed. "My name is _Leah_." She spat back at him, yanking her blouse on over her shoulders.

"Right, sorry." Chuck aimed for contrite, but he missed and landed on indifferent. So it wasn't all that surprising when she stalked out of his room in a huff, slamming the door behind her. Well, no big loss, he wasn't terribly enthusiastic about the prospect of a second go-round with Laura anyway.

Stretching back against his pillow, Chuck closed his eyes and waited for those hazy, unwelcome fantasies to be overtaken by an alcohol-induced sleep.

* * *

><p><em>All of these moments are lost in time<br>But you caught in my head like a thorn on a vine  
>To forever torment me and I wonder why<br>Do I wish I'd never known you at all_

* * *

><p>"Dan, I'm ordering Indian, do you want anything?" Jenny's voice rang out from the living room.<p>

"Umm… yeah, sure, just get me… whatever." Dan mumbled in response, running his fingers through his curly dark hair for the hundredth time.

Jenny appeared in the doorway. "Writing going that well, huh?"

Dan sighed in response, gazing at the blank screen in front of him and willing letters to appear on it. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I've been sitting here for hours. It's like there's some kind of… blockage, or something."

"Like maybe trying to write a story about why you dumped Serena even though you're still butt-crazy in love with her is impossible, because even _you_ can't figure out how that happened?" Jenny asked sardonically.

Dan glared at his little sister, who'd become increasingly snarky lately. Clearly they'd been spending far too much time together this summer. "I'm not 'butt-crazy' in love with anyone, Jenny. Hell, I've gotten more phone numbers in the past week than I did the first 16 years of my life. It's not like I'm crying into a pint of Ben and Jerry's every night."

Jenny responded with a derisive roll of her eyes. "Yeah, your rebound parade isn't fooling anyone, Dan. Maybe instead of trying to Chuck Bass your way through every pretentious poetry-reading groupie in the city, you should just man up and go talk to Serena. Who knows, she might even miss you too." With a disdainful sniff, she returned to the living room. Dan exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Apparently sorting buttons all day long wasn't doing much for Jenny's disposition.

He had to admit, though, that she had a point. He and Serena hadn't spoken, or even seen each other, since the night of Bart and Lily's wedding. And his reasons for ending their relationship, while perfectly logical, had been largely rooted in anger and frustration over the ridiculous situation they'd found themselves in. Now, with several months' worth of hindsight at his disposal, he couldn't help wondering if maybe he'd been too hasty. Serena was by far the best thing that had ever happened to him- was that really worth throwing away over one mistake?

He took one last look at his laptop screen, and the four pitiful words on it (just his name and the date, he'd even thrown in his middle name for good measure), and slammed the lid shut. He'd just go pay her a quick visit, they could grab a cup of coffee and talk about everything. If nothing else, maybe at least he'd finally get some closure.


	2. Kissing the Lipless

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**Chapter 2: Kissing the Lipless**

_But you've got too much to wear on your sleeves  
>It has too much to do with me<br>And secretly I want to bury in the yard  
>The grey remains of a friendship scarred<em>

_-The Shins_

**Three months prior**

Buoyed by the sense of accomplishment that always followed a good takedown, Blair breezed through the front doors of the Cooper-Hewitt museum. Under normal circumstances, she would have arrived for the event on Nate's arm, but Operation Ruin Georgina's Life had gone right down to the wire that afternoon. Plus, Nate tended to be fairly useless (as well as mildly judgmental) when it came to this type of mission, so it was usually best to just leave him in the dark. Fortunately, Dan had been more than willing to abandon his aggravating sense of morality and assist Blair with the dirty work for once. His devotion to Serena was equal parts inspiring and nauseating, she thought to herself.

Slipping into the powder room, Blair found her best friend putting the final touches on her hair and makeup.

"Hey B! You look so beautiful." Serena smiled, her usual bubbly happiness not quite reaching her eyes.

"As if anyone will even notice me standing next to you." Blair scoffed, admiring her friend's ruffled yellow Ralph Lauren dress. On anyone else, it would be vaguely reminiscent of a giant cartoon bird, but this was Serena- the girl could look like a goddess in a burlap sack. Instead of responding, Serena fiddled distractedly with her gloves and sighed. "What's the matter, S? If you're still worried about that crazy fire-crotch trying to sabotage your life, we've taken care of it. Suffice to say, she'll have a lot of time to spend ruing the day she ever crossed any of us."

"Oh, I never doubted your scheming abilities for a second. I only wish I could've been there to see it." Serena laughed, squeezing Blair's hand. "It's just that… I still don't know where this leaves me and Dan. And I just want… I want everything to go back to the way it was before, but I don't know if he can forgive me."

"Serena, that boy has been crazy in love with you since the second he hit puberty." _Which was all of a year ago, granted…_ "You guys will get through this, I promise." She smiled and brushed one of Serena's blonde strands back into place. "Now let's get out there and watch your mother marry the single scariest man I've ever met, shall we?"

Serena blinked as if she'd been hit by a sudden realization. "Oh B, I've been so distracted about everything with Dan, I didn't even think about- won't this be the first time you've seen Chuck since he left?"

"Hmm, I guess so." Blair shrugged with feigned disinterest. "It's really no big deal."

Her blonde friend's eyes narrowed in skepticism. "But you still haven't told Nate. Aren't you worried that Chuck might?"

"And lose the only real friend he's ever had? Chuck may be reckless, but he's not stupid." Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Serena. "Anyway, I am going to tell Nate, it's just that he's been kind of… distant, lately, and I wanted to wait until everything with his family settles down. He's been so stressed, and I don't want to pile anything else on top."

Having successfully justified herself in her own mind, Blair gave her friend one last hug and then rose. "Good luck, S! Everything's going to be perfect. I'll see you after the ceremony!"

Serena watched her leave in a whirl of pink and white flowers, marveling at Blair's uncanny ability to force her life to follow that perfect movie script in her head.

* * *

><p>Chuck surveyed the assembled guests, noting the presence of nearly every old money family on the UES; he would expect nothing less, of course, between Lily's society connections and Bart owning half the island. Glancing over at his father, he was startled to see an almost nervous expression replacing the usual icy composure. He stood ramrod straight, hands clasped tightly in front of him, but there was no mistaking the look of anxious anticipation in his eyes. <em>Who knew<em>, Chuck thought to himself. _All it took was a hot new wife to make Bart slightly less of an overbearing prick_. He grinned as he briefly considered using that opening line for his best man toast.

Turning to face forward once again, he caught sight of Nate and his father settling into the fourth row, nodding in greeting at his old friend. They hadn't had a chance to catch up yet, as Chuck had arrived from London late the previous evening, but he was glad to see the Captain looking more like his old self again.

And then, as his gaze strayed to the pavilion entrance, it was suddenly caught by a pair of chocolate brown eyes staring directly back at him. He froze in place, watching Blair make her way down the aisle. She looked every bit the society princess in her sweet pink and white dress, with a coordinating pink clutch and matching flower decorating her immaculately-styled curls. And yet she held his gaze, almost as if captivated by the sight of him. It made his insides twist in a way he hadn't felt since their last encounter that chilly January afternoon.

"_So goodbye mistake, so far in my past I can hardly remember it."_

As her cruel words echoed through his head, his chest clenched tightly and he remembered exactly why he could not afford to let her get to him, not ever again. With a narrowing of his hazel eyes and a slight flare of his nostrils, he dismissed her from his sight, turning to whisper in Eric's ear. His future stepbrother chuckled quietly at the lewd comment, but Chuck barely noticed. It took every bit of willpower to keep his eyes trained away from Blair, to not watch her slide in next to Nate and greet her boyfriend with an affectionate kiss.

As she settled back into her seat, Blair tried to avoid feeling hurt by the contempt clearly evident on Chuck's face. After all, their last encounter had been extremely tense, and they hadn't spoken since, so it was understandable he would feel some hostility towards her. Surely once they had a chance to chat at the reception, everything would smooth over and things could go back to the way they'd been before, before everything was complicated by sex and lies and hurt feelings. She felt her heart catch in her throat as she contemplated his carefully-tousled locks, sharp jaw and those gold-flecked eyes that were now steadfastly refusing to meet her own. He couldn't possibly stay angry for long, Blair reasoned. They'd been friends their entire lives.

* * *

><p>At the behest of his father, Chuck was making his way around the reception hall, greeting various board members and business associates. He was reasonably certain they didn't want to converse with him any more than he did with them, but a request from Bart Bass was really a thinly-veiled order, so he did his part as the dutiful son. That is, until one of the security personnel pulled him aside and whispered in his ear that Captain Archibald asked to have his car brought around. Rehab or not, Chuck still didn't trust the slick bastard.<p>

Blair was toying with the Chilean sea bass on her plate, mentally counting the calories in the few bites she'd taken, when she saw Chuck striding in their direction. Her fork clattered to the table and her mouth went dry, before she could remind herself to calm down. He leaned over Nate's shoulder and whispered urgently in his ear, and she saw her boyfriend frown in response.

"Excuse me just a minute, Blair." Dropping his napkin on the table, Nate headed in the direction of the museum entrance.

"Chuck." Blair addressed him hurriedly, before he had the chance to turn away.

"Blair." He tersely acknowledged her greeting. She flinched inwardly from the cold indifference in his eyes.

"Is… everything okay?" She gestured in the direction of Nate's departure.

"I'm sure Nate can fill you in later." He responded impassively, turning to leave.

"Chuck, wait." He paused, tensing as he looked back at her. "We haven't seen each other in… months, I thought maybe we could… catch up?"

He regarded her silently, the slight flare of his nostrils the only indication that her words had any effect on him.

"I'd love to hear about your new school. I'm sure you've managed to come up with some very creative ways to punish Bart for sending you there." She tried to inject a teasing note into her voice, but his forbidding expression told her the attempt had failed.

"Unfortunately I'm rather busy at the moment. If you'll excuse me." Chuck didn't wait for a response, walking away without a backwards glance.

Left alone with her sad plate of mangled fish, Blair felt a lump forming at the back of her throat. Faced with the possibility their friendship may be damaged beyond repair, she wondered how on earth they'd gotten to this point.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Blair was swirling her glass of champagne, stealing another sideways look at her morose boyfriend as he sulked beside her. He'd returned to the reception with bruised knuckles and a muttered explanation about his father leaving, after which he refused to talk about it any further. Pondering the unmitigated disaster that was her evening, Blair consoled herself that at least Serena looked just as miserable. Obviously her conversation with Dan had gone poorly, since the two of them were currently slow-dancing with all the enthusiasm of a funeral procession.<p>

Chuck, in contrast, seemed to be having himself a marvelous time. After delivering an impeccable toast- the perfect balance of sardonic humor and sentimentality- he'd posed for photos with his new blended family, and then spent the remainder of the evening fending off female advances. Apparently the prospect of a one-night stand with Chuck Bass was enough to make even the most prudish UES socialites behave like desperate tramps, Blair thought scornfully.

"Chuck and I made plans to head to Victrola after the reception. You don't mind, do you?" Nate asked distantly, although the question was clearly rhetorical. He wasn't in the mood to care whether she minded or not.

"Of course not, sweetie. You haven't seen each other in months, you should go have fun." Blair smiled brightly. "Besides, it looks like Serena's going to need some consoling tonight anyway."

Nate nodded, his eyes drifting over to Dan and Serena on the dance floor. "Yeah, you should make sure she's alright, she looks pretty upset."

Blair kept the smile pasted on her face, willing herself not to question why he recognized Serena's distress, yet barely noticed the cracks in her own facade.

From across the room, Chuck made eye contact with Nate and nodded towards the door. The newlyweds had long since retired to their suite, and the sooner he extricated Nate from the reception, the sooner he could get away from Blair and the forlorn looks she kept sending his way. After everything that had happened between them, he couldn't believe she honestly expected him to slip back into the role of platonic BFF. Then again, denial had always been a Blair Waldorf specialty. But her injured expressions were just making him increasingly furious, and he knew he had to get out of there before he snapped and said something both of them would regret.

"I'll give you a call tomorrow, okay?" Nate gave her a quick kiss on the lips, brushing his thumb against her cheek. "You look really pretty tonight, Blair." He added, almost as an afterthought, before he rose and headed towards Chuck.

She watched the two of them leave together, neither sparing her a backwards glance. Draining the champagne flute, she propped her elbow on the table and rested her cheek in her hand, watching Dan and Serena slowly swaying together across the dance floor. Trying not to outwardly roll her eyes at their sad panda faces- _Christ, you're breaking up, not going down with the Titanic_- Blair temporarily pushed her own trivial problems to the back of her mind and prepared herself for the inevitable Serena fallout.

* * *

><p><em>You berate remember<br>Your ailing heart and your criminal eyes  
>You say you're still in love<br>If it's true, what can be done?  
>It's hard to leave all these moments behind<em>


	3. Kids

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**Chapter 3: Kids**

_Memories fade  
>Like looking through a fogged mirror<br>Decisions too  
>Decisions are made and not bought<br>But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot  
>I guess not<em>

_-MGMT_

As they descended the steps behind the Van der Bilt summer home, making their way to the elegant garden party spread out below, Blair and Serena drew numerous admiring glances from the male guests. Blair's white eyelet skirt and pale pink strapless top showed off her tiny waist and slim shoulders, and contrasted beautifully with her dark chestnut curls. Serena, as usual, had opted for a more bohemian look, her dark blue sundress accented by layers of beaded necklaces and lustrous blonde waves. Of course, the male attention was offset by envious glares from their female counterparts, but competition had always been a way of life in their social circle.

Spotting Nate talking with his mother, Blair approached the pair, pausing for a second to ensure she didn't intrude on their private conversation. Anne noticed her first, and smiled in a manner that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Oh Blair, don't you look lovely." She kissed her on the cheek. "Nate dear, perhaps you could fetch her a beverage?"

Nate smiled as well, and Blair was suddenly struck by the similarity in their facial expressions- those perfect, polished smiles that seemed somehow devoid of real emotion. She felt a twinge of discomfort, wondering if she might have interrupted a rather serious discussion. "Of course, I'll be right back." As Nate hurried off to do his mother's bidding, Blair took the opportunity to compliment the décor.

"These rosebushes are absolutely spectacular, Anne. You must have spent all summer on them."

Anne inclined her head, graciously accepting the compliment. "Well, I have had a fair bit of free time lately."

Blair was unsure how to respond, knowing that the gaps in her social calendar were undoubtedly caused by the Captain's fugitive status. It was the kind of scandal that caused even old money elite to be socially shunned. And although Nate preferred not to discuss it, she knew how that the whispers and accusations bothered him, especially when they were unfairly directed at his mother. If Anne were guilty of anything, it was placing her faith in an untrustworthy man, Blair thought to herself, feeling thankful that she never had to worry about her honest, principled boyfriend pulling that kind of crap. Luckily, the party turnout was still impressive, despite the quiet rumblings of gossip among the guests.

At that moment, she spotted Lily making her way down the stairs with Bart, who must have arrived from the city only hours ago. It was obvious Lily had dressed him- it was the only explanation for the beachy linen trousers and trendy button down shirt, which seemed to be making him visibly uncomfortable. In fact, Blair couldn't remember him ever wearing anything but a suit and an intimidating expression. But his awkward attempts at relaxation, under Lily's influence, were actually rather endearing.

"Here you go, Blair." Nate returned to her side, presenting her with a glass of white wine and a quick kiss on the cheek. She didn't have to taste it to know it was chardonnay, the Bud Light of white wine. No matter how many times she reminded him that she preferred pinot grigio or sauvignon blanc, Nate never seemed to remember. Blaming it on his lack of wine knowledge and hamster-like attention span, she tried to suppress a grimace as she sipped her drink.

"Anne, Nate, what a lovely party!" Lily was all smiles as she joined their group, with Bart and now Serena in tow. "I finally managed to drag Bart away from work for the weekend, I told him he couldn't possibly miss your annual soiree."

Blair listened politely as Lily and Anne made small talk, observing that the chardonnay was becoming less unpleasant the more of it she drank. It still tasted like a cheap open bar at a Jersey wedding, but she could make do. She briefly considered sampling the scallop ceviche offered by a passing waiter, but she'd already had more than enough to eat that day.

Gradually the conversation turned to end-of-season festivities and finally the upcoming school year, giving the children an opportunity to participate. "Well, soccer practice begins a week from Monday, so I'll have to head back to the city right after the white party." Nate responded to Lily's query. Clearing his throat nervously, he directed his next question to Bart. "I was wondering, Mr. Bass, if you'd given any thought to letting Chuck return to St. Jude's this semester?"

Bart frowned in confusion. "Letting him return?"

Nate swallowed, clearly intimidated. "Yes, sir… It is senior year, after all, and it only seems fitting that he graduate with his classmates."

"Nathanael, I don't know what he's told you, but Charles _requested_ to be transferred to Brighton. I was willing to oblige because I hoped it might improve his academic performance, but that doesn't appear to be the case."

Seemingly oblivious to their startled expressions, Bart went on, "Quite frankly, I'm not even sure what he's still doing there, his term ended almost a month ago. Perhaps I should give him a call…" He frowned again, clearly displeased by the idea.

Blair felt her heart pounding in her ears. _Chuck had wanted to leave?_ _Why?_ Nate's brow was furrowed, an expression of surprise and confusion on his face, and she carefully avoided meeting his eyes while her mind raced. Shifting uncomfortably under Serena's questioning gaze, she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp and excused herself, heading off in search of that ceviche.

* * *

><p>Anxiously tugging at the collar of his shirt, Dan reminded himself once again that he wasn't actually crashing this party. He was technically someone's plus one- even if that someone happened to be Serena's 60-year-old grandmother.<p>

He had shown up at the Rhodes summer house an hour ago, after a 3-hour Jitney ride spent working himself into quite the romantic lather. Discovering that Serena wasn't even home had temporarily derailed his plans, but he'd soon gained a surprising ally in Grandma CeCe, who had apparently spent the majority of the summer watching her granddaughter mope around despondently. Thus, she'd decided to overlook Dan's humble origins and help him revamp his ill-conceived wooing strategy. The first step had been a change of clothes, of course, because showing up at an East Hampton party in Old Navy cargo shorts simply would not do. Step two was getting him into said party- but now that they were here, it was all up to him. CeCe nodded in Serena's direction with just the hint of a twinkle in her eye, and went off in search of a stiff drink, leaving him to fend for himself.

He felt his knees shaking slightly as he descended the stairs, admiring the flowing blonde locks of the girl he'd been in love with since he was 14. _Flowing blonde locks, really? Maybe it's a good thing you haven't been able to document any of this drivel._ He sighed inwardly. Then suddenly, his eyes were met by a pair of wide blue ones, Serena's face lighting up in- happiness? Yes, that definitely looked like happiness. He responded with a wry smile, and the two made their way towards each other across the well-manicured lawn.

"Dan." She greeted him breathlessly, stopping just a few feet away.

"…. Hey." _Well-played, Humphrey_. God, he was really bad at this.

"What are you… doing here?" She asked hopefully, nibbling at her lower lip in nervousness.

"I thought maybe we could… talk, or something. I just… uh… I really miss you." Dan finally confessed, as he stared awkwardly at the ground. Sneaking a glance upwards, his heart nearly stopped as he saw the expression of sheer elation on her face. Two seconds later, he felt himself enveloped in a flurry of long limbs and blonde hair and beaded necklaces.

"I miss you too." She whispered against his cheek, hugging him tightly. Then as she tilted her face upwards, their lips met in a warm, passionate kiss made all the sweeter by months of separation. It was a perfect moment, suspended in time as a manifestation of pure, simple happiness. The other guests observing their reunion couldn't help but smile, whispering among themselves about the giddiness of young love.

Every guest except one, that is. Surprised by the sudden development, Nate had no opportunity to compose himself into an appropriate reaction. Inhaling sharply, he was hit by a wave of intense jealousy, twisting his handsome features into an ugly scowl. Although it lasted only a second before he regained his bearings, it was too late. Observing the scene from across the lawn, Blair felt his reaction like a kick to the gut. As her throat tightened and her eyes began to well up with tears, she purposefully strode towards the house. She just needed to make it to the bathroom before anyone saw her cry.

* * *

><p>"Daniel, this certainly is an unexpected pleasure." Lily smiled at him, her voice remarkably devoid of sarcasm. "I didn't realize you were summering in the Hamptons."<p>

Dan smiled back, inwardly rolling his eyes. The use of "summer" as a verb was high on his list of rich-people pet peeves. Then, suddenly realizing he'd come all the way out here without actually securing any accommodations, he felt stirrings of unease- what had seemed like a grand romantic gesture at the time now felt remarkably short-sighted.

Clasping his hand in hers, Serena grinned in understanding at his worried expression.

"Oh, I invited Dan to stay with us, Mom- I hope that's alright?" She asked innocently.

"Of course, dear. I'll make sure the first floor guest room is set up for him." Lily pursed her lips knowingly. "I must say I approve of your choice of attire, Daniel."

After glancing down at his loose linen pants and white button-down shirt, he caught the steely blue gaze of a very similarly-clad Bart Bass. Barely catching a chuckle before it escaped his mouth, he nodded in sympathetic understanding. The resemblance between the Rhodes women really was uncanny sometimes.

"Hey Dan." Nate clapped his back in greeting. "Looks like you've already traded up in the date department? Poor CeCe."

Dan chuckled in response. "Hey, great party, man. Very…" He paused, searching for an appropriate word "…classy."

"Well, that's how the Archibalds roll." Nate joked, taking a long gulp of his drink. He definitely felt in need of some fortification at the moment. Perhaps he could sneak off to his room and smoke up for a few minutes, just to take the edge off.

"Hey Nate, did you hear anything back from Chuck?" Serena asked, suddenly remembering their earlier conversation.

"Nah, I sent him a text, but it's the middle of the night there. I'll just talk to him tomorrow." Nate shruggled nonchalantly. He tried not to let on how hurt and confused he felt by the revelation that his best friend had not only abandoned him, but lied about it, while Serena was once again attached at the face to Dan Humphrey, and Blair- where was Blair, anyway? He briefly surveyed the gathering, seeing no sign of her pretty pink-and-white outfit. Sighing, he figured she was probably pissed about him ignoring her, or some other offense he hadn't even realized he'd committed. He was sure he'd get to hear all about it tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Gripping the edge of the sink with both hands, she carefully critiqued the reflection in front of her. Her curls were still sleek and shiny, although they were looking a touch dry at the ends. Her outfit was tasteful and perfectly coordinated, expertly straddling the line between youthful and elegant. The accessories were subtle, yet eye-catching. And while the waistband of her skirt was just the slightest bit snug, it was nothing that a few weeks of discipline wouldn't fix.<p>

Her face, however, was going to require some work. Wiping streaks of mascara away with trembling hands, Blair set about repairing her makeup. She studiously avoiding meeting her own eyes in the mirror, unwilling to face the pain and resignation reflected back at her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So if you're thinking this chapter had way too little Chuck in it, rest assured, that will be rectified in the very near future.

Thanks to my fantastic Beta, Terrabeth.

And reviews are pretty much my favorite thing in the whole wide world. Just saying. :)


	4. Wish You Were Here

.

**Chapter 4: Wish You Were Here**

_So, so you think you can tell_  
><em>Heaven from Hell?<em>  
><em>Blue skies from pain<em>  
><em>Can you tell a green field<em>  
><em>From a cold steel rail?<em>  
><em>A smile from a veil?<em>  
><em>Do you think you can tell?<em>

_-Pink Floyd_

"Rise and shine, B!"

Rudely awakened by a whirlwind of bouncing limbs and hair, Blair groaned in annoyance. "Serena, please respect the sleep mask." She grumbled. An uncaffeinated Blair Waldorf could be quite unpleasant indeed, especially after a long night spent tossing and turning.

A beat of silence followed, and she could practically feel her best friend pouting. "But I've been waiting for you to wake up for an hour..."

Blair sighed, pulling the mask off and giving up on feeling rested for the remainder of the day.

A radiant, 1000-watt smile greeted her. Serena sat cross-legged on top of the duvet, clad in a silky baby blue nightgown and looking so happy, she might as well have had a thought bubble over her head with a big cartoon heart in it.

"I take it the rest of the evening went well, S?" Not that there much question of that, given the thin wall separating their rooms. Blair couldn't fathom Dan Humphrey possessing the necessary bedroom skills to elicit that kind of enthusiasm, but the evidence spoke for itself. Clearly her face mask was going to require an accompanying set of earplugs.

"It was just perfect." Serena sighed dreamily. "I know I said I was finally feeling better, getting over the breakup, but… I guess in the back of my mind, I was always hoping he would come after me. Our eyes would meet across a crowded room, and then we'd kiss- like a big movie kiss, you know? And it was just like I imagined it."

Blair smiled with only a touch of wistfulness, genuinely happy for her best friend. "Well, if he makes you this happy, I suppose I can resign myself to another year of Humphrey's tedious presence."

Serena giggled, giving Blair an exuberant hug. "Your vote of confidence means so much to me, B." She teased.

"So did you two… talk? About the breakup, and everything?" Blair asked cautiously, not wanting to spoil her friend's good mood.

Not to worry, as Serena waved off the concern with a pithy grin. "Not yet, but we will. We were… otherwise engaged last night." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, causing Blair to groan in response.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was made aware of that. I do sleep right on the other side of this wall, you know." But her pointed comment fell on deaf ears, as Serena didn't have the grace to look even slightly embarrassed.

"So how was the rest of your night? I don't remember even seeing you after Dan showed up."

Blair shrugged. "Uneventful, I guess."

A long pause fell between them as Serena examined her shrewdly. "Did you know that Chuck wanted to transfer? Nate seemed kind of upset by that."

For someone so clueless, Serena could become observant at the most inopportune moments.

"No, I didn't." Blair shook her head. "He never even told me he was leaving. The only time we've spoken since then was at the wedding, and it was… brief."

She felt her chest tighten as she remembered his icy indifference, how he'd ignored her for the rest of the evening, and that disdainful look in his eyes. Their encounter had left her feeling so empty inside, wondering if she'd just imagined the teasing, amorous boy who had once pinned her to the bed so he could cover her neck and chest with playful nibbles… those same eyes growing warm with desire when she'd stopped pretending to struggle and arched her body up against him, fervently returning his kisses.

Blair swallowed, feeling her cheeks grow flushed.

She decided to refrain from mentioning the several unanswered texts she'd sent him, ranging from a forced-casual "hey", to an embarrassingly misspelled message about missing him, which she'd discovered in her outbox one particularly hungover morning a few weeks ago.

"That pregnancy scare must have really freaked him out. Although, I have a hard time believing it's the first time Chuck might have slipped one past the goalie." Serena commented dryly. "He's probably left a trail of illegitimate children across half of western Europe by now."

"Or maybe…" Blair took a breath, trying to quell the inevitable guilt that arose every time she considered this possibility, "It's too hard for him to be around Nate and lie to him like that? I mean… they've been friends since they were in kindergarten." She knew more than anyone how much Nate missed his best friend, and it pained her to think that his absence could be her fault.

"Well, he had no problem keeping Nate in the dark for months, I doubt his conscience suddenly kicked in." Serena shrugged. "Anyway, the way Bart was talking last night, it sounds like Chuck's European vacation may be coming to an end sooner rather than later. Something about, if he's just going to dick around anyway, it might as well be in Manhattan so someone can keep an eye on him."

Considering the possibility, Blair felt assaulted by a rush of conflicting feelings- guilt, happiness, fear, excitement, and a weird quivering sensation in her stomach that she tried to avoid analyzing too carefully. Having Chuck around would make Nate happy, she reasoned, and of course she fully supported that outcome.

"Well, that does sound like Bart… never one to mince words." She smiled and pushed back the covers, swinging her legs around to the floor. "Hey, how about the four of us head into town and get some brunch?"

"Mmm, sounds great. I've been craving those banana-nutella crepes all week!" Serena bounced up off the bed. "Just let me go wake up Dan, he's probably still passed out. I really wore him out last night." With a wink, she left the room, laughing at the pillow that ricocheted off the doorframe behind her.

* * *

><p>Chuck had awoken that morning to a vague text message from Nate, saying he'd talked to Bart about Chuck returning to St. Jude's in the fall. His friends were supposed to be terrified of his father, when the hell did they start having actual conversations with him? Chuck had barely even reached that point himself.<p>

Luckily, he had several hours to ponder his response, as Nate was a notoriously late riser. By the time his phone rang around 3pm, he'd worked out a believable cover story in his head- only to pause nervously when he saw "BART" highlighted on the screen. He could count on one hand the number of times his father had called him since he'd left, exactly zero of which had been friendly, heartwarming conversations. It was most likely either bad news, or an "I'm so disappointed in you" lecture with some reference to Chuck's head being up his own ass.

He hit "accept" and cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"Chuck." Bart didn't waste any time on pleasantries. "Care to explain why you're still at school when your finals concluded 3 weeks ago?" Since when did Bart keep track of his academic schedule? Probably the work of some eager beaver administrative assistant.

"Well… I had extra coursework to make up." Chuck improvised quickly.

"I'm sure you did, by the look of these grades. But I assume you've finally completed your work for the semester?" A pause, to make sure the full weight of his disapproval was registered. "The Bass jet is leaving London tonight for New York, I expect you to be on it." Bart's tone of resigned disappointment invited no further discussion.

Chuck conceded, realizing that the issue was not up for debate. "Of course, father."

"And I've taken the liberty of re-enrolling you at St. Jude's for the fall semester. If you're going to squander your academic opportunities on booze and women, you'll at least do it somewhere I'm available to bail you out of jail." _Oh please, like Bart had ever actually come down to the station himself- wait, what?_

"I expect you at family dinner tomorrow." With that, the line went dead. Chuck swallowed hard, realizing he would soon be forced to face everything he'd spent the last 7 months avoiding.

* * *

><p><em>How I wish, how I wish you were here.<em>  
><em>We're just two lost souls<em>  
><em>Swimming in a fish bowl,<em>  
><em>Year after year<em>

_Running over the same old ground._  
><em>What have we found<em>  
><em>The same old fears.<em>  
><em>Wish you were here.<em>

* * *

><p>Dan and Serena were happily chowing down on their eggs benedict and crepes, respectively, while Blair nibbled on a piece of croissant and Nate worked his way through some sausage-laden cholesterol bomb. Blair wrinkled her nose at his plate, but didn't comment- she understood stress eating, after all, and he had a lot on his mind at the moment. She sipped her coffee, hoping it would clear the fog from her brain.<p>

"Are you okay?" He asked her quietly, eyeing her mangled croissant and half-shredded napkin.

Blair smiled brightly, her heart swelling just a little at his concern. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a bit sleep deprived, since someone didn't have the common courtesy to keep it down last night." She arched her eyebrow towards Serena, who at least had the decency to turn pink this time. Dan responded with a proud, dorky grin, like last night had been the single greatest accomplishment of his entire life. _Which it very well might have been…_

But Blair's temporary happiness deflated a little at Nate's tight, evasive smile. Clearly he didn't see the humor in Dan and Serena's loud, inconsiderate hot monkey sex. Recommencing her napkin shredding, Blair struggled to think of a more appropriate topic. What did people from Brooklyn talk about? Smelly ethnic food? Increasing the minimum wage? The perils of gentrification? "So, Dan… Serena tells me you play soccer? Are you thinking about trying out for the St. Jude's team?"

Dan looked surprised for a moment, like he couldn't believe she was actually addressing him, and it could possibly be some sort of trap. "Umm, yeah… I was thinking about it… if they happen to need any extra midfielders."

"Actually, we just lost one of our starters for the season." Nate commented. "Broke his leg in a jet-ski accident in Dubai."

"Oh, well… maybe I'll try out then. I'm a little rusty, but I have been playing in a summer rec league." _A co-ed league that's 60% girls_, he thought to himself, deciding to leave that part out.

"That'd be so great! I can come to your games and cheer on the sidelines." Serena grinned happily, squeezing his arm. "And it'll give you two a chance to get to know each other."

"Yeah, that sounds awesome." Nate's tone betrayed how entirely un-awesome that sounded to him, but a second later he was distracted by the vibration of his phone. "Oh, it's Chuck, I should take this." Excusing himself from the table, he headed towards the front of the restaurant. Blair was momentarily thankful that Dan and Serena were distracted by mooning all over each other, as she nervously nibbled on one perfectly-manicured nail.

* * *

><p>"Nathaniel." Chuck greeted him. "Out of bed before noon on a Saturday? What's the occasion?"<p>

"Ugh, yeah, Blair dragged me to brunch with Serena and Dan." Nate sighed, uttering that last syllable with barely-contained annoyance.

Chuck snorted. "Is that back on? I give it 2 months before one of them manages to fuck everything up again."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Nate smiled wryly. Then, remembering why he'd needed to talk to Chuck in the first place, he cleared his throat. "Listen man, I was talking to Bart last night-"

"I can't imagine why, I try to avoid it as much as possible."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I peed my pants. But anyway, he said something about you…" Nate paused, not sure how to phrase his question. "_Wanting_ to go to school in England?"

"He said that, did he?" Chuck's voice maintained its laconic, indifferent quality, as he recited the words he'd already practiced to himself several times. "The man has quite a talent for manipulating the truth. I requested to be transferred here because it was the least unpleasant option he offered me."

"Oh." Nate exhaled in relief. "Right, I figured it was probably something like that." He felt silly for ever doubting his friend.

"But good news on that front." Chuck continued, forcing a note of enthusiasm into his vote. "He agreed to let me come home for my senior year. As a matter of fact, I'm on my way to the airport right now."

* * *

><p>"Anyways, so while we were brainstorming over some of my short-story ideas, he suggested I could use the people around me as inspiration for the characters, like Serena, of course, and Jenny, and even Chuck Bass. I mean, every story needs to have a villain, right? Speaking of Chuck, is he not coming home for break? I figured he'd be making up for lost time by drinking his way through Manhattan by now." <em>Jesus Christ, did Dan never stop talking?<em> Ask the guy one question and it was like opening the conversational gates of hell.

Blair shrugged, feigning an air of indifference. "I haven't heard from him."

"You know, in spite of everything, he did keep things interesting around here. I almost miss the sleazy bastard." Dan chuckled. "Well, probably not as much as you miss him." He added with a knowing glance at Blair, grinning at his own cleverness.

Blair froze instantly. _Oh, hell no._ Her grudging tolerance of Dan evaporated, and he was left cowering under her withering glare, legitimately afraid that she might melt his face off with her eyes. "I'm sorry, Dan, were you looking for some of your business? Because I don't see any of that over here." Icy fury dripped from every word, and even Serena looked nervous.

The fact that Dan Humphrey was privy to her most shameful secret was already completely unacceptable, but if he ever dared joke about it again, she would honest-to-God shank him right in the leg. And her searing death glare clearly indicated as such.

"I'm… sorry, I was just… uh, making… I didn't mean..." Dan's timid stammering trailed off, as he wished he could crawl under the table and die. Blair narrowed her eyes at him, clearly wishing the same.

Thankfully, he was rescued by Nate's return, upon which Blair evidently flipped on her happy switch and greeted him with a smile and a "Hey sweetie!"

Nate smiled back, obviously in a much better mood. "So guess what- Chuck's coming home tomorrow!"

"…Tomorrow?" Blair's eyes widened and she swallowed hard, wondering why her mouth suddenly felt so dry.

"Yeah, he's flying in tonight and meeting Bart and Lily here tomorrow. I guess the whole thing with his transfer was that he did request it, but only because Bart didn't give him any other options…" Nate babbled on, recounting the details of their phone call, but Blair had long since stopped listening. All she heard was her heart pounding in her ears and Nate's words echoing through her head.

_"Chuck's coming home tomorrow."_

* * *

><p>AN: So... who's excited for his arrival? :)

_______**_****_**_______Thanks again to Terrabeth for her mad editing skills. If you haven't checked out her stories, you should do so, like, immediately.


	5. Sick Muse

.

**Chapter 5: Sick Muse**

_Watch out Cupid  
>Stuck me with a sickness<br>Pull your little arrows out  
>Let me live my life<em>

_-Metric_

Chuck gazed absentmindedly out the window of his limo, watching as the city skyline gave way to outer boroughs, then suburbs, and finally the opulent, beautifully-landscaped oceanfront mansions of East Hampton. He'd spent most of the ride attempting to get his thoughts into some semblance of order, a task made difficult by the lingering side-effects of his long, sleepless flight and subsequent Ambien-induced coma.

The issue wasn't how he would treat Nate and Blair as a couple- his standard combination of amused skepticism and bored indifference, with the occasional eye-rolling, would suit just fine. But the question of how to deal with Blair, more specifically how to behave towards her once they inevitably found themselves alone together, was a trickier one- made even more so by her behavior at Bart's wedding and her numerous attempts to contact him since then. The last text he'd gotten appeared to say something about missing him, although the drunken jumble of letters suggested that she probably wouldn't even remember sending it. He hadn't responded, of course, although for some reason he still hadn't deleted it.

Either way, it seemed obvious that Blair was interested in renewing the friendship they'd had, before she'd slept with him, involved him in a clandestine affair behind his best friend's back, told him to go to hell, ditched him for said best friend, thought she might be pregnant with his baby, and then told him to go to hell about ten more times. _Easier said than done, Waldorf._

Now, with Serena back on the Dan Humphrey train, and Nate undoubtedly being the same clueless and inattentive boyfriend he'd always been, he knew she was probably running short on confidants- leaving him as the only remaining option. But as thoroughly heartwarming as that sentiment was, Chuck was neither quick to forgive nor desperate for friends. Blair, he decided, would just have to suck it up and deal.

* * *

><p>"Anyone want another drink?" Serena called out from the patio, waving her daiquiri glass in their direction.<p>

"No thanks." Dan replied distractedly. As if that were even necessary, Blair thought. She couldn't recall ever seeing him with an alcoholic beverage, and he wasn't being any more fun than usual this afternoon.

"I'll have a strawberry mango. Thanks, S." She briefly contemplated the position of the afternoon sun, feeling her stomach clench with anticipation. "Actually, make it a double."

She knew damn well that a Serena-style double-daiquiri involved upending most of a bottle of rum into the blender, but her nerves were shot to hell. Every time the patio door opened, her heart practically jumped into her throat, and she'd been rereading the same page of her novel for almost half an hour now.

Casting a sideways glance at Dan, who was still scribbling away in his little notebook, she sighed in irritation. Serena had made a point of telling her how badly Dan felt for his ill-timed joke about Chuck yesterday, how she knew he hadn't meant to upset Blair, and how she _really, really , really_ hoped the two of them could get along, _please_. Since Nate was busy with his family for the afternoon, she supposed now was as good a time as any to broker some sort of cease-fire.

"So, is that your… dream journal?" Okay, that came out sounding more disdainful than she'd intended.

Dan paused and glanced up at her, trying to figure out if he was being mocked. She sighed, setting her book down on the table and tried again. "Are you writing something for your internship?"

"Yeah, I… I'm finally making some progress on my story. I've had a pretty bad case of writer's block most of the summer," Dan admitted. "If I don't get this done soon, there's no way I'm getting a good recommendation, and a letter from someone like Jeremiah Harris could really make or break my Yale application."

Blair nodded her head in understanding. If nothing else, relentless academic ambition was their one common ground. "What's it about?"

To her surprise, Dan appeared to flush slightly with embarrassment. "Umm, well, it's… it's about Serena."

Blair groaned inwardly. "Wasn't your piece in the New Yorker about Serena too?"

"Well, she's an interesting character study," Dan responded defensively. "And it's not _just_ about Serena, it's… it's an outsider's perspective on the Upper East Side. A look at how unlimited wealth and privilege provide a breeding ground for… corruption, and nepotism, and moral apathy."

_Of course_ Dan Humphrey would turn his lovesick Serena ramblings into some sort of judgmental morality play, Blair thought to herself.

"You do appreciate the irony of writing your proletarian rant from the pool deck of a multi-million-dollar estate, I hope," she commented dryly, glancing around at the immaculately manicured grounds and white pillared façade of the Rhodes family summer home.

Dan chuckled, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "Well, I figure it's not as hypocritical as long as I continue being socially awkward and totally out of my league."

"Fair enough." Well, at least he realized it. Speaking of Serena, had she gotten lost on her way back from the kitchen?

"So… I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I was just joking around, but… I shouldn't have said it." Dan mumbled, not making eye contact. Blair eyed him suspiciously, but he seemed genuine, if still somewhat terrified of her. As he should be.

"Don't worry about it, Humphrey. It's possible I may have… overreacted a bit," she allowed.

"So are you okay with this?" At her puzzled look, he clarified. "Him being here, it won't be… uncomfortable for you?"

Blair stiffened slightly, annoyed at another unwelcome intrusion into her private life. "It'll be fine. We're still friends, we've always been friends. Nothing's going to change."

Her tone brokered no further discussion on the matter, so Dan just nodded, clearly unconvinced.

Luckily, Serena chose that moment to rejoin them, bearing two elaborately-garnished fruity drinks. "Sorry I took so long! We ran out of rum." She smiled apologetically.

"So what did you put in this?" Blair took a quick, testing sip of her frozen beverage, coughing immediately as the intense agave flavor hit the back of her throat. "Tequila, Serena, really? Are we on a spring break party bus in Cancún?"

"Oh come on, B, don't act like you've never had a tequila shot before. Or was that someone else in the limo after Snowflake ball sophomore year?" Serena teased. "Cheers!" She clinked their glasses together, and Blair responded with a resigned smile, trying not to grimace as she sipped her vaguely Taco-Bell-flavored daiquiri.

"How's your story coming, Dan?" Serena perched at the bottom of his deck chair, craning her neck over the top of his notebook. "And when do I get to read it?"

"I told you, not until it's finished." Dan snapped the notebook shut, grinning affectionately at her. Serena made a grab for it, initiating a tickle fight that left the two of them giggling like idiots, and Blair wishing her drink had more tequila in it.

She slid her oversized sunglasses back down onto her nose, hoping the dark tint would obscure her derisive expression- as well as the increasing sense of apprehension that must be written all over her face.

* * *

><p>Several hours and several Serena-daiquiris later, Blair found herself in a remarkably cheerful mood. Nate had arrived and was currently swimming laps in the pool, and her now-slightly-fuzzy brain wasn't having any better luck reading, so she just relaxed and watched him. As his broad shoulders and muscular back moved through the water, sunlight glistening off bronzed skin, she thought to herself how incredibly lucky she was… because really, the boy was just too pretty for words.<p>

Eventually Nate hauled himself out of the water, strolling back over towards the deck chairs as he dried off. The rough toweling left his golden brown hair in disarray, and Blair leaned over to muss it up further with her fingers, giggling as she did so.

"What's gotten into you?" Nate asked with a boyish grin, ducking to avoid another pass.

"I've just missed seeing you smile, that's all." She smiled back, taking another slurp of her tasty strawberry-mango concoction.

Nate nodded, his smile fading a little as his eyes cast downward. "Yeah, I'm sorry I've been so distracted lately. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend."

"Don't apologize, I know you've had a lot on your mind." Blair touched his shoulder affectionately. "I just want you to know I'm here, if you want to talk or… anything."

"Well…" Nate sighed. "There isn't much to tell at this point. But I know my mom is really worried. She's getting all this pressure to help with the investigation, but she hasn't had any luck convincing my dad to turn himself in. And now she's afraid they're going to use financial pressure to force him out of hiding, which would leave us with… well, nothing."

Blair's lips parted in shock. "They can… do that? Just take your mom's money?"

"Well, it's not just her money, it's his too. And since he's a fugitive, I guess they have the legal right to freeze his accounts. I just… I don't know what we would do." Nate ran his fingers through his hair, the stress and worry evident on his face.

"If you need anything, Nate, you know my family would be happy to help," Blair said earnestly, taking his hand in hers and twining their fingers together. "We're all here for you."

"Thanks, that's very sweet." Nate smiled, squeezing her hand. "Please don't say anything about this to anyone, though. My mom… well, she'd be humiliated if everyone knew."

"Of course not, I won't say a word," Blair promised.

She lapsed into silence, contemplating this new piece of information. Even though she was heartened by Nate finally confiding in her, she couldn't fathom the idea of him being left penniless. How could anyone justify punishing their entire family for the Captain's sins? They'd been hurt and embarrassed so much already. Surely, Blair thought to herself, the Van der Bilts would step in long before things got to that point. Nate's grandfather valued family loyalty above all else, he wouldn't just stand by while his daughter and grandson suffered.

Her introspection was interrupted by the click of the patio door, followed by the sound of slow, unhurried footsteps.

"Nathaniel." The low drawl sent a shiver up Blair's spine.

"Hey man, you finally made it!" Nate grinned, rising from his chair and bestowing an enthusiastic one-armed man hug on his best friend. Blair stared down into her remnants of her brightly hued drink, trying desperately to gather her wits together. "Blair?" Nate's questioning voice broke through her preoccupation and she realized she hadn't even acknowledged their visitor.

"Hey Chuck!" Forcing a bright smile to her lips, she stood and turned to face him. "Good to have you back!"

Even having steeled herself, she was unprepared for the impact of meeting his gaze, his dark, fathomless eyes regarding her with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. Unfortunately, she'd already taken several steps toward him at this point, so she had no choice but to finish the motion with a requisite friendly hug. _It's fine. We're still friends. Nothing's going to change._

Blair felt him stiffen in surprise as she wrapped her arms around him, although it was a gesture she'd made many times before. It was then that she remembered she was in a bathing suit, and that perhaps this had been an extremely bad idea. She could feel the heat from his body over every inch of her bare skin, her breasts pressed against his torso, the light scruff on his face brushing against her cheek. And he smelled… exactly the same. The intensely masculine aroma assaulted her senses, making her suddenly light-headed with arousal.

Feeling flushed from head to toe, Blair pulled back. "Did you want a daiquiri? Serena's making them with tequila, so they're terrible, but after 4 or 5 you don't really notice so much." She feigned a cheerful smile, looking anywhere but at Chuck.

"No thanks, I'm all set." He studied her for a moment before glancing back at Nate. "Speaking of Serena, where is my lovely stepsister?"

"She and Dan went for a walk in the gardens, they should be back any minute," Nate replied, returning to his lounger. "Have a seat, man, you look exhausted."

"I'm insulted, Nathaniel, I took special pains this morning to make myself pretty for you," Chuck drawled, leaning back on the white slatted chair and retrieving a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. "But yes, I've slept all of 4 hours in the last 48, and my body has no idea what time it's supposed to be, so I'm unlikely to be very… entertaining this evening."

"No worries, we have all week to make up for it," Nate responded, grinning mischievously. Blair sighed to herself, knowing from experience what that meant- her drunk and/or stoned boyfriend passed out in her lap in the back seat of a town car.

A moment of silence fell over the three as they relaxed, enjoying their spectacular view of the estate grounds, and Blair took the opportunity to study Chuck out of the corner of her eye. His hair was longer and slightly tousled, like he'd just been running his fingers through it, and he didn't appear to have gotten much sun this summer. _Chuck was always more a fan of indoor activities_, she thought, catching herself before her mind wandered any further in that direction. He was wearing some ridiculous polo shirt with sailboats all over it, boat shoes, and a pair of shorts that showed a lot of man-leg even by European standards… but as usual, he carried it all off with aplomb. And his eyes, hidden behind dark lenses, were almost certainly closed- she knew, for some reason, that she would've felt it if he'd been looking back at her.

"Hey Chuck!" Serena called out, strolling up the lawn hand-in-hand with Dan.

Chuck rose, sauntering towards the couple.

"Hey sis. Good to see you." He answered with a smirk, leaning in to greet her with a kiss on each cheek. In response to Serena's bemused expression, he offered saucily, "Just a little something I picked up abroad." He followed that up with a lascivious head-to-toe appraisal, clearly appreciative of her skimpy pink bikini under its sheer beach cover up.

A raised eyebrow and a "Humphrey." was the only acknowledgment he gave Dan, who was visibly fuming by Serena's side.

Blair felt a familiar despondent feeling in the pit of her stomach. Of course, every guy present was panting all over Serena and her shiny hair and her long legs and her stupid pink bikini top that was quite clearly a size too small. It had nothing to do, she told herself, with Chuck not even taking notice of her own swimsuit, even though it showed off all her best assets and the fact that she'd lost almost 5 pounds this summer. _Even though I practically rubbed myself all over him in it_, she thought, cringing in embarrassment.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get changed for dinner," Blair announced, not giving anyone a chance to respond before escaping back into the house. Hopefully she could locate some self-respect somewhere along the way.

* * *

><p>At 7pm sharp, Blair made her way towards the dinner table laid out in the west garden, her heels clicking along the flagstone path. Her self-confidence boosted by an hour of careful primping, she smoothed down the folds of her green and white-flowered summer dress, a matching headband decorating her loose brown waves.<p>

Nate smiled as he rose from the table to pull out her chair. "That's a pretty dress, Blair."

Batting her eyelashes in gratitude, she turned to survey the rest of the guests. CeCe and Lily were chatting over shrimp cocktails at one end of table, while Dan and Serena played some gross variation of footsie under the other end. Chuck lounged disinterestedly across from her, swirling a glass of what Blair might have thought was iced tea, if she didn't know better. Approving wholeheartedly of his stylish mint green suit and contrasting blue pocket square, she tried to catch his eye to tell him so, but found that he was once again deliberately avoiding looking in her direction. Feeling suddenly deflated, she took a sip of her iced tea. Hopefully it would take the edge off all those daiquiris.

"Bart was so sorry he missed you, Charles. He had an urgent situation come up with one of his investors, so he had to hurry back to the city this afternoon," Lily said apologetically, smiling at her stepson. He nodded in acknowledgment, staring down into the amber depths of his glass. "And I'm sure he's looking forward to catching up with you next week."

"I'm sure he is." Chuck didn't bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. After dragging him all the way back across the Atlantic and insisting that he attend this specific dinner, his father couldn't even be bothered to show up for it. If he didn't know better, he'd think Bart was deliberately avoiding him instead of just not giving a shit.

"Blair." CeCe cleared her throat. "You don't mind sleeping in Serena's room for the rest of the week, do you dear? We're running a bit short on rooms now, now that Charles has arrived."

"If you need someone to stay in Serena's room, that's a sacrifice I'd be willing to make," Chuck offered suggestively, spearing a piece of lettuce with his fork.

Serena rolled her eyes, while Lily and CeCe shot him admonishing glares and Dan tried to figure out some way to respond besides sputtering in indignation.

Blair just stared down at her hands, twisting her napkin into a pretzel. "I'd be happy to stay with Serena." She'd probably still end up with her own room, since Serena would just be downstairs boning Dan anyway, she figured.

"I'll let the staff know to move your things." CeCe nodded authoritatively.

The conversation continued onto more mundane topics, with Lily wanting to hear all about Chuck's experiences at Brighton, and his deliberately vague answers making it obvious that academic pursuits had been low on his priority list. Then there was a discussion of plans for the annual foundation brunch, followed by new landscaping ideas for the east garden and whether the ambiance might be enhanced by the addition of a fountain. Blair was only half-paying attention, distracted by the way a lock of brown hair curled up behind Chuck's ear, when she realized he was getting up to leave.

"Well, I'm feeling rather jetlagged, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire for the evening. See you all at breakfast." After giving Nate a quick clap on the shoulder, Chuck headed back up towards the house. Blair watched him go, trying not to feel hurt by his continued avoidance, and attempting to quell the confused jumble of emotions swirling inside of her.

* * *

><p>"Chuck."<p>

He groaned in annoyance as the voice pierced through his comfortable fog of sleep, draping one arm over his eyes in an attempt to ward it off.

"_Chuck_." More insistent this time.

He groggily opened his eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of Blair Waldorf perched on the edge of his bed, bathed in a glow of moonlight and staring directly back at him. Was he dreaming? She appeared to be fully-dressed, so probably not. Well, almost fully-dressed. He took a moment to appraise her flowered cotton nightie, from the lacy scalloped neckline perched right above her breasts, to the short hem that was riding dangerously up her slim thighs. Based on the way the airy fabric skimmed over her body, it seemed unlikely she was wearing anything beneath it.

Swallowing tightly, he cleared his throat. "Can I help you, Waldorf?"

"I think we need to talk. About… how things are going to be between us," she replied, only the faintest quaver in her voice betraying anything but self-confidence.

He sat up against the headboard, rubbing his eyes and willing himself to wake up so could handle this situation with a clear head. "And this was so urgent you felt compelled to wake me up in the middle of the night?"

Blair rolled her eyes. "It's not even midnight, Chuck. And I had to corner you somewhere you couldn't just walk away and ignore me."

Chuck's eyes narrowed in response to her accusatory tone. "Yes, I do recall that you prefer to be the one doing the walking away and ignoring." Looking slightly discomfited by his stare, Blair twisted her fingers together in her lap.

"And of course you needed to choose a venue without your _boyfriend_in attendance," he continued, his voice growing increasingly cold. "I'm sure you also considered that I might be more… easily persuaded, when half-asleep and not fully in control of my faculties."

Blair exhaled in irritation, realizing that even a half-asleep Chuck Bass was still a worthy adversary. "That may have factored into my decision-making, yes."

"Well, if persuasion was your goal, I would've worn something a bit more… revealing," he replied pointedly, giving her demure little nightgown another once-over and enjoying the resulting flush that spread from her breasts up to her neck.

"Yes, well…" Blair paused to regroup, fighting the urge to cross her arms over her chest and considering that perhaps appeasement was a better strategy. "About my… behavior last year. I am very… sorry, about that."

Honestly, it was one of the least sincere apologies he'd ever heard, but he had to give her some credit for trying. After all, Blair Waldorf wasn't prone to bouts of remorse.

Chuck nodded in acknowledgment, if not exactly acceptance. "And so what is it you want from me, exactly?" He looked away, affecting an air of disinterest.

"I just want us to be friends again. Or at least… civil to each other," she replied resolutely. "For Nate's sake."

"Friends for Nate's sake?" Chuck eyed her with skepticism.

Blair nodded firmly, as if entirely convinced that this was the best course of action. "Friends," she repeated. "I don't know how much he's told you, but Nate's been going through a lot with his family, and it could… well, it could get even worse. He really needs both of us right now."

Chuck sighed. Self-sacrifice really wasn't in his nature, but he would feel like the world's biggest douche if he told her to fuck off after that touching little speech.

"Fine," he responded, forcing a note of indifference into his voice. "We can be friends."

Blair gave him a small smile and looked down again, as if trying to find the right words. "Friends who keep certain… past indiscretions… to themselves?"

"Blair." He exhaled in irritation. "I'm not an idiot. I may not particularly care about Nathaniel's opinion of you, but I'd really rather not get myself punched in the face."

Blair chuckled softly, suddenly looking more relaxed than he'd seen her all day. "Then we're agreed. Truce?" She held out a hand in his direction, looking at him expectantly.

He stared down at it for just a moment before engulfing her hand in his much larger one. The satiny skin caressed his own, a visceral reminder of those same delicate hands stroking against his neck, sliding down his chest, clenching into his back- and he felt a crackle of electricity pass between them, stirring a sudden burst of arousal deep within him.

Inhaling sharply, Blair pulled her hand back as if she'd been bitten, looking anywhere but at Chuck.

"Well, I should get back to my room," she said breathlessly, hopping up off his bed and making a beeline for the door. Once there, she paused briefly, glancing back at him. "Goodnight, Chuck."

"Goodnight Blair," he replied, watching her slip out and close the door behind her.

Sighing deeply, he laid back down on the bed, propping the pillow beneath his head and staring at the ceiling. _Friends. Fan-fucking-tastic_. It was like the whole universe was conspiring to dangle the one girl he wanted and couldn't have right in front of his face, just to see how long it took him to crack. How long before his already limited restraint gave out and he did something to completely embarrass himself… which he nearly had already, but thankfully Blair had been too distracted by their conversation to notice his raging hard-on.

That was the extent of it, of course- the appeal of forbidden fruit. There was no other logical explanation why he was still lying there exhausted and unable to sleep, imagining what could have happened if he'd just reached over and slid the strap of her nightgown down one shoulder, trailing after it with his mouth… then kissing across the soft skin of her bare collarbone, back up her neck to that spot behind her ear, sucking on it until she whimpered and arched against him.

Realizing he was no closer to falling asleep, and rather enjoying the direction this was headed, he reached down to free his throbbing erection from the confines of his pajama pants. Stroking himself firmly, he let his mind wander back to that other shoulder strap, sliding it down to reveal her perfect, rosy-tipped breasts. He cupped them in his hands, teasing her nipples into tight buds, before lowering his head to taste one. Her hand reached down to caress him, wrapping her fingers around his cock and stroking, gently at first, up and down his shaft until he grew even harder in her grasp. Working him with increasing speed, she knelt between his legs, silky brown curls swaying against her naked breasts, her soft hands creating a delicious friction that was pushing him rapidly towards the brink. One last stroke of his swollen head and he felt himself come undone, jerking uncontrollably as he groaned in release.

Finally spent, Chuck relaxed back against the pillows, only slightly perturbed that he'd gotten off before making it past third base in his own imagination.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship… or possibly, a total clusterfuck.

Thanks again to my fantastic beta, Terrabeth, without whom this chapter would've been significantly less awesome and about 90% less smutty.

I hope this foray into S1/S2 is a welcome respite from the ridiculousness of S4 right now. Let me know if you're enjoying it!


	6. Friend is a Four Letter Word

.

**Chapter 6: Friend is a Four-Letter Word**

_To me  
>Coming from you<br>Friend is a four-letter word._

_-Cake_

Feeling rested and considerably more self-assured, Chuck sauntered into the breakfast room the following morning. He tucked a pair of aviators into the front of his pale blue button-down, the madras plaid contrasting stylishly with his brown checked shorts. When it came to fashion, mixing patterns was something Chuck considered an art form- the key being the appearance of ease. And of course, he'd taken great pains to ensure that his carefully-rumpled hair looked like he'd barely bothered to comb it.

It took a lot of effort to look this effortless, he mused, sliding into a seat across from Serena. She, of course, was the exception that proved the rule. The girl could stumble out of bed, throw on whatever clothes she'd left crumpled in a ball on the floor, and end up looking like she wandered out of an Abercrombie catalog. Under the guise of a suggestive once-over, Chuck studied his step-sister's nearly-transparent peasant top and tousled sex-hair, wondering why it didn't have any effect on him. It must be a consequence of jetlag, or the faint nauseating Eau de Humphrey still lingering on her.

It was then that he noticed Dan was actually sitting next to Serena, glowering in Chuck's direction. _Was he still here?_ Well… nothing much he could do about that, except continue to ignore his existence. Resolving to do so immediately, Chuck began buttering an English muffin, planning a related sex pun for the next available opportunity.

"Morning, everyone!" Blair chirped, clasping Nate's hand in her own as they strolled into the room, sitting down next to Chuck. She looked every bit the Hamptons society girl in her brightly flowered dress, wide pink belt, and matching straw tote bag. Her chestnut curls were loosely gathered at the nape of her neck, topped with a contrasting blue headband and accentuated by a set of flawless pearl earrings.

"Wow, someone's awfully chipper this morning." Serena smiled, munching on her croissant. "And you managed to get Nate out of bed before 10, I'm impressed!"

"Oh, I can't take any credit for that," Blair replied sweetly. "Apparently a homoerotic man-date with Chuck is the only motivation he needed."

Chuck smirked in response. "You're not fooling anyone, Waldorf. Don't mock croquet just because you're abysmal at it."

"I am NOT-" Blair caught herself . "I am… a perfectly respectable croquet player. It just so happens that Serena and I have more urgent matters to attend to this afternoon."

"You do?" Dan glanced over at Serena. "I didn't realize you already had plans."

"Oh, Blair and I were just going to get pedicures and do a little shopping. You don't mind, do you?" Serena asked hopefully, bestowing her most dazzling smile upon him.

Nobody ever minded when Serena smiled like that.

"Oh no, it's no problem. I'll just get some… writing done," Dan improvised quickly, trying not to sound as excluded as he felt.

"And what part of that is urgent, exactly?" Chuck inquired, with a skeptical look in Blair's direction.

"Well, my feet aren't going to take care of themselves, Chuck," she replied in exasperation.

Glancing down at her dainty, perfectly-manicured feet perched in a pair of wedge sandals, toenails immaculately painted with pink polish, he raised an eyebrow at her.

"The pink has too much of a blue undertone. It doesn't compliment my tan," Blair explained defensively.

Well, she did have a point, he conceded. And a coral shade would match the flowers in her dress.

"Aren't you going to eat anything, B?" Serena asked, gesturing towards the breakfast spread. "You'll need fortification for a long afternoon of shopping."

Briefly considering her options, Blair agreed. "Sure, pass me a blueberry muffin."

Chuck bit his lip to keep from offering to butter it for her. Somehow making lecherous comments to Blair in front of Nate didn't feel quite… appropriate anymore. Apparently that was one of the uncomfortable side effects of banging your best friend's girlfriend.

"Hey, I have a great idea!" Serena announced, as though a light bulb had just turned on over her head. "Dan, why don't you hang out with the guys while Blair and I are out doing girl stuff? Then we can all meet up at the beach later."

A brief silence descended upon the table, since no one present except Serena considered this to be anything but an absolutely terrible idea.

"You shouldn't just hang out here by yourself while we're all out having fun! And it'll give Nate a chance to tell you all about the soccer team." Serena nodded, as if congratulating herself on this fantastic plan. "Besides, you've always wanted to learn how to play croquet."

Dan swallowed, his expression clearly indicating that he'd never wanted anything of the sort.

Blair shook her head as she nibbled on her muffin, apparently baffled that even Serena could be this naïve. Nate's expression, meanwhile, appeared to be a losing attempt to conceal his irritated disbelief.

Chuck grinned, relishing the awkwardness. If he couldn't just ignore Humphrey, an afternoon of taunting him would provide a perfectly adequate substitute. "Sounds fun. Nate and I will be more than happy to acquaint you with the rules of the game," he drawled, watching Dan squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Great, so it's settled." Serena beamed, happy to have found the perfect solution. "Meet at Wainscott beach around 3 then?"

"Sure, sounds good." Nate smiled wanly.

"Okay, let me just go grab my bag and we can head out!" Polishing off the last bite of her croissant, Serena gave Dan a quick kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door. "Have fun you guys!" she called back.

Blair gave Nate a kiss goodbye as well, before rising to follow her. She paused to take one last look at the three boys. "Just… behave yourselves," she sighed, throwing a quick glare in Chuck's direction over her shoulder.

Left alone with Nate and Chuck, Dan took a deep breath and forced an expression of enthusiasm onto his face. "So… croquet?"

"Yeah…" Nate trailed off.

Chuck smirked. This would be fun.

* * *

><p>"So did you seriously think that was a good idea, or are you playing some kind of prank on Dan?" Blair asked, sipping on her iced cappuccino as they strolled through downtown. "Because if it's the latter, I can totally get on board with that."<p>

Serena laughed. "Come on, B, it's just croquet. What's the worst that could happen to him?"

"I assume you're looking for an answer besides 'getting roofied and waking up to find out he's someone's prison girlfriend'." Blair arched an eyebrow at her.

"Why, do you have reason to think one of them might be into that?" Serena countered teasingly.

Blair regarded her best friend with narrowed eyes. "Watch it, S."

"Come on, Nate's going to be there, and Nate likes Dan just fine. I'm sure he'll prevent any… roofie-related activities Chuck has planned." Serena grinned, taking a slurp of her own iced beverage.

Blair rolled her eyes. If Serena seriously thought that Nate liked Dan, she was even less observant than she looked. "Well, worst case scenario, they lure him into the woods, steal his clothes, and leave him tied to a tree."

"Well, I'm sure I could figure out a way to have fun with that." Serena smiled mischievously.

"Ugh." As if hearing them humping through the wall hadn't been traumatizing enough. "Let's just nix the naked Dan talk and get our feet pampered, shall we?"

Twenty minutes later, both girls were flipping through magazines while their feet soaked, occasionally exchanging celebrity gossip or styling tips. Blair leaned back and closed her eyes, savoring her foot massage. Those adorable little wedge heels were hell on her arches.

"So you seem much… calmer today," Serena commented. "I kind of expected you to be a little more freaked out, given the… situation."

"Oh, the situation's been taken care of," Blair responded breezily. "We talked about it last night."

"We being…."

"Me and Chuck, of course."

Serena frowned, looking puzzled. "When did you talk to Chuck? He went to bed at like 9pm."

"Well, I stopped by his room later." Blair attempted to sound as nonchalant as possible- as if she hadn't lingered in front of his door for the better part of ten minutes, trying to muster up the courage to enter.

"You went into his room late at night by yourself?" Serena's surprised reply carried just a hint of censure.

"So? We needed to talk. It's not like I'm going to jump him just because we're alone in a room together," Blair responded defensively. Or because his hair was so adorably rumpled, she could barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it. Or because, during those few sleepy moments before he regained his bearings and remembered to act like a dick, he looked irresistibly vulnerable. Or because she couldn't stop wondering how he would've reacted if she'd leaned in to run her tongue over his full lower lip and then gently nibble on it-

"Blair?"

_Dammit._ Shaking her head to ward off her brain's unwelcome tangent, she glanced back at her friend.

"I said, what did you guys decide?" Serena repeated, looking suspicious of Blair's sudden daydreaming.

"That we're going to put everything in the past and be friends," Blair replied with conviction.

"Friends?" Serena asked. The skepticism in her voice made Blair defensive.

"Yes, Serena, _friends_," she returned. "Like we were for… twelve years, before any of this happened."

Serena nodded, not looking any more convinced. "So… when are you going to tell Nate?"

Blair inhaled sharply in irritation.

"I'm going to tell him soon, just not… right now," she replied. "Between Nate's family… issues, and Chuck just coming back, it's not a good time at the moment. He really needs both of us."

Serena nodded, conceding that the obviously self-serving argument did have some merit. "I know, Nate has enough to deal with right now. I'm just worried that… well, so many people know already. And it would hurt him so much to find out from someone else."

Blair pinched the bridge of her nose and mentally counted to ten, the relaxing effects of her foot massage having completely dissipated.

"Well, as long as you and Humphrey can manage to keep your mouths shut for just a little while longer, I'm sure it'll all work out fine," she stated, making it clear that the matter was no longer up for discussion.

Looking slightly uncomfortable, Serena busied herself with her phone- hoping against hope that this situation wouldn't turn into the complete trainwreck she anticipated.

* * *

><p><em>Thwack.<em>

Dan groaned as his ball was once again knocked off the course, into a set of dense, visibly thorny bushes.

"Sorry." Chuck smirked at him, not sounding the least bit sorry, and lined up to take his next shot.

Dan knelt down and rummaged through the shrub with one hand, trying- and failing- to avoid getting stabbed by the sharp little barbs. Overhearing what sounded like another snarky comment, followed by a chuckle from Nate, he sighed and wondered when all this _fun_ would finally be over. Nate's explanation of the rules had been unhelpful at best, even though they were supposedly on the same team, and it was obvious Chuck was more interested in making Dan miserable than actually winning.

Finally retrieving his ball, and losing only a small amount of blood in the process, Dan rejoined the other two and tried to not look completely ill at ease.

"So… do you guys spend every summer out here?" he asked, with forced nonchalance.

Two pairs of eyes- one blue, one hazel- regarded him with skepticism and amusement, respectively.

"Yeah, pretty much every year since we were kids." Nate finally responded.

A moment of awkward silence followed.

"I guess it's been in your family for awhile, then?" Awkward silences, unfortunately, were Dan's kryptonite, and he felt compelled to fill them at any cost.

"Yeah, about… ninety years, I think."

"Wow, that's a long time." Another prolonged pause. Dan struggled to think of a follow-up question.

Nate nodded, glancing over the opulent summer home as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

More silence. Dear God, this was like giving himself a root canal. As legitimately terrified as he was of Blair, at least she was capable of stimulating conversation- trying to talk to Nate was like watching a hamster run on a wheel. He honestly didn't know how she'd tolerated it for all these years; he felt like he'd actually lost IQ points over the last several hours. And Chuck, on the other hand- well, he preferred it when Chuck was ignoring him, because the only interest he ever took in Dan appeared to be of the humiliating and life-ruining variety.

Nate took the next turn, tapping his ball through the far wicket and taking aim at the turning post.

"And where do you typically summer, Humphrey?" Chuck asked sardonically, surveying him with barely concealed ridicule.

"Uh… well, Jenny and I have gone up to Hudson to visit our mom the past two years," Dan replied. "It's always nice to… get out of the city for awhile."

"Ah yes, little Jenny." Chuck pursed his lips. "And how is your lovely sister?"

Dan frowned, his unease suddenly replaced by a resurgence of hostility. "She's doing well," he responded, a note of warning in his voice. "She's actually coming out with Erik this weekend, for the white party."

"Well then… I look forward to getting reacquainted with her." Chuck held his gaze with a wicked grin.

Dan felt his fists clench at his sides and his blood pressure start to rise. Nate rejoined the pair, seemingly oblivious to the angry tension.

"Jenny's coming out to visit? Blair will be happy about that, I think she's been bored with just me and Serena for company all summer," he commented. "Your turn, dude."

Chuck tapped his ball forward, and it rolled to a stop several inches in front of the intended wicket, effectively blocking Dan's next shot. He sighed, suspecting that hadn't been an accident. His futile attempt to aim around Chuck's ball resulted in both ricocheting away, and Nate walked to the other side of the course for his next turn.

"So did you enjoy your foray into the world of pseudo-intellectual fiction writing?" Chuck's tone contained the barest hint of amusement. "It must've gotten you a lot of ass. Nothing excites hipster Brooklyn girls quite like a pretentious book reading."

He briefly pondered the absurdity of discussing "getting ass" with Chuck Bass, of all people, before responding.

"Uh, no… I've pretty much just been focusing on my internship all summer. I have a lot to learn, and… Jeremiah's been a great mentor."

Chuck nodded, a sardonic smile on his face. "Is that so? I heard you were quite popular with his… female fans."

Dan stiffened in surprise and confusion. How the hell had Chuck heard anything about that? Taken aback by this unwelcome turn of events, he stammered out, "I'm, uh… not sure what you're talking about."

"Mmm-hmm." Chuck regarded him shrewdly. "I must say I'm impressed, Humphrey. I didn't think you had it in you."

For once, an awkward silence left Dan at a complete loss for words.

"I'm sure Serena wasn't surprised, though," he continued. "She has always seen the… best in you, after all."

_Shit._ As this conversation grew progressively more unpleasant , he felt a moment of abject fear. Taking a deep breath, he regained his bearings and realized that he was not, in fact, at a disadvantage in this situation.

"Well, I think sometimes past… indiscretions, are best left in the past," Dan responded with steely resolve. "Don't you agree?"

A pointed look in Nate's direction left no doubt as to his implication. Chuck's condescending smile froze in place, and he regarded Dan with a mixture of what appeared to be surprise, controlled fury, and was that- grudging respect? _Nope, just murderous rage_. Perhaps threatening had been the wrong tactic to take here, he thought, but he'd gone too far to back down now. Gritting his teeth, he returned Chuck's icy glare with all the determination he could muster, reminding himself that he could ruin the guy's life in about five seconds if he wanted.

"Indeed I do," Chuck finally replied, after a torturous moment of silence. "Nathaniel, are you about done? We're losing valuable beach time here."

Neither of them paid attention to Nate's response, their eyes remaining locked in a silent standoff.

* * *

><p>"Relax S, I'm sure they'll be able to find us. " Blair sighed, watching Serena crane her neck, scanning the beach for their male companions. If nothing else, they'd certainly be able to find Serena- her fuschia bikini bottom covered, at most, a quarter of each ass cheek, and every guy within fifty feet appeared to be eagerly anticipating a wardrobe malfunction.<p>

Blair tucked a towel under her feet, making sure the sand didn't scratch her freshly-polished nails, and slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses. She'd chosen more modest attire, opting for a one-piece yellow and green-flowered Salvatore Ferragamo. It was stylish and sexy, but still elegant. Besides, it's not like she was interested in getting whistled at by these knuckle-dragging Neanderthals anyway.

"Oh, there they are!" Serena beamed. "And they brought drinks!"

Blair glanced up to see the three boys approaching. Nate and Dan were carrying a cooler and some beach chairs, and Chuck… was walking with his hands in his pockets, as if carrying things weren't in his job description. Dan looked relieved to see Serena, but didn't appear to have been physically harmed in any way. And Nate looked… far too appreciative of Serena's microscopic bikini, Blair decided, feeling her mood start to plummet.

"Hey guys, we brought beer." Nate set the cooler down and laid his towel out next to Blair.

"Are we going to a… frat party?" She eyed the Corona he held towards her with distaste.

"I'll have one." Serena volunteered. "Do we have limes?" She batted her eyelashes at the boys, and Dan and Nate practically tripped over each other attempting to procure one for her. Apologizing awkwardly, Dan stepped aside and watched Nate deftly slice the lime into wedges.

"Do you want one too, Dan?" he asked, betraying his limited knowledge of Dan's partying habits.

"Oh, Dan doesn't really drink." Serena shook her head with a smile. Strangely, Dan looked almost offended by her refusing on his behalf. Maybe he was just touchy because she'd sent him on the adult equivalent of a playdate, or perhaps he really needed a drink after an afternoon of getting mentally tortured and eye-raped by Chuck.

"Actually, I'd love one." He grabbed a beer and awkwardly attempted to twist off the cap with his hand, before Serena grinned teasingly and held out her bottle opener. Finally getting it open, he took a cautious sip.

"That's, uh.. that's good beer," he commented, trying not to grimace.

"You forgot the lime though," Serena smiled mischievously, sucking on a wedge and proceeding to give him a big wet kiss.

_Ugh_, Blair thought to herself, shielding her eyes with her hand. She was way too sober for another round of Dan/Serena face-sucking.

Nate cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You know, I think I'm gonna wait until after my swim, so I don't cramp up." Handing his beer to Blair, he stripped off his shirt and sandals and headed towards the ocean.

She stared after him, then down at the bottle. What in the hell was she supposed to do with this? She certainly wasn't going to drink it. Exhaling sharply in irritation, Blair jammed the bottle into the sand and folded her arms across her chest. She could feel Chuck's amused gaze on her, which didn't do anything to improve her mood.

"Well, you should be used to getting ditched for Nate's exercise routine by now," Chuck commented dryly. "He thinks his muscles will atrophy if he skips even a single day."

"Well, it wouldn't kill you to join him now and then," Blair shot back, casting a scornful look in his direction.

Chuckling softly, he inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Oh, don't worry, I have my own exercise routine, which I am… _very_ dedicated to."

"Getting blow jobs from freshmen doesn't count as exercise, Chuck," Blair replied pointedly.

"No, that's really more of a warmup." He grinned, stretching back in his chair. "And if I were so tired from all this exertion that I couldn't perform up to my... standards, well… I'd never forgive myself."

Blair rolled her eyes. Well, at least he wasn't treating her any differently than he used to.

"We're going for a walk on the beach. Be back in a bit," Serena announced, clasping Dan's hand and pulling him off along the sand. Strolling hand-in-hand down the beach, bright turquoise waves crashing in the background, the two of them looked like a walking Corona commercial. Well, at least they were taking their nauseating public display of affection elsewhere, although it had the unfortunate side effect of leaving her alone with Chuck.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, before she cast a glance over at him and scoffed in disbelief at the sight. "Are you seriously drinking a _glass of wine_ on a beach?"

"I'm sorry, I must have left my pony keg of Heineken in the car." Chuck met her gaze with a smirk, taking a slow, deliberate sip. "I assume this means you don't want any."

She sighed, eying his drink. Well, it did look delicious. Plus, her only other option was a slightly-lukewarm bottle of beer that now appeared to have sand floating in it.

"Fine," she assented. "You can pour me some."

"Oh, _can_ I?" he responded sardonically, but a second later, he obliged and handed her a glass of pinot grigio. Blair savored the crisp, fruity flavor, letting the cool liquid glide over her tongue. _Now this is more like it, _she thought_._

She contemplated the view in front of her as she slowly sipped her wine, keeping one eye on Nate swimming parallel to the shoreline. There hadn't been any shark sightings around this part of Long Island recently, but it couldn't hurt to be vigilant. God knows Nate wouldn't notice one coming. Not unless it was prancing around in front of him in a hot pink bikini, anyway.

She'd hoped that with Dan back in the picture and Serena… otherwise occupied, she would finally have his undivided attention- but if anything, things seemed even worse now. Nate was visibly bothered by the two of them together, and kept going off to sulk by himself, and now she didn't even have Serena to keep her company. Her hour of careful primping had obviously been a waste of time, since no one had even spared a second glance.

Blair sighed, taking another sip and licking the remaining moisture off her upper lip. Feeling Chuck's eyes on her, she glanced over at him, only to see him abruptly look away and slide his sunglasses down over his face.

She placed her glass down, stretching her arms behind her head and arching her back with a little sound of contentment. This time, there was no mistaking the heat of his gaze running over her figure, even through the dark tint of his lenses. But he gave no outward indication of his reaction, continuing to survey the scene before him with detachment.

_Interesting, _she thought to herself_. Perhaps not such a waste of time after all…_

Pondering the giddy thrill she felt at his attention, and emboldened by a heady mixture of sun and alcohol, Blair rummaged through her beach tote and retrieved her bottle of sunscreen.

"Can you put some lotion on my back? I think I'm turning a little pink," she complained, craning her neck to inspect one of her shoulders.

Chuck glanced at her, looking disinterested. "Is there some reason you can't do it yourself?"

"I can't reach. Obviously." Blair rolled her eyes. "You know what, never mind."

Chuck sighed in acquiescence and grabbed the bottle of sunscreen, squirting a generous amount into his hands. "Fine, turn around."

Gathering her silky brown curls along one side of her neck, she turned in her chair and presented him with her bare shoulders and back. The cold sunscreen against her skin initially made her gasp in surprise, but it gradually warmed as he massaged it into her skin. His palms moved across her back, rubbing the lotion in with long, firm strokes. Working his way outwards, his fingers dipped down along the edge of her swimsuit, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in their wake. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hands caress the side of her torso, dangerously close to the outer swell of her breasts. He moved to pull away and she looked back over her shoulder.

"Could you get the back of my neck too?" Her voice sounded surprisingly steady, given the nervous fluttering in her stomach. She twisted her hair up with one hand and held it high against her head. After a brief pause, his hands returned to her shoulder blades, slowly moving their way upwards. As his fingers stroked down the length of her neck, they lingered just a moment too long, and a shiver of excitement ran up her spine. She felt him exhale against her, the heat of his breath warming her bare skin, his mouth only inches away.

Clearing his throat, Chuck pulled his hands back and returned to his own chair.

"If you need any more assistance with your grooming, you should probably summon Dorota." His voice sounded cool and collected, betraying only a slight hint of unsteadiness. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he picked up a towel and nonchalantly dropped it over his lap.

_Interesting indeed, _she thought.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Oh, B… don't you know what happens when you play with fire?

Many thanks to Terrabeth for beta-ing the hell right out of this. Leave a review and let me know what you thought, it makes my day. :)


	7. Sometime around Midnight

.

**Chapter 7: Sometime Around Midnight**

_And it starts  
>Sometime around midnight<br>Or at least that's when you lose yourself  
>For a minute or two<em>

_-Airborne Toxic Event_

Blair yawned and stretched her arms over her head, reaching over to silence her alarm. She typically preferred to wake up on her own- her internal clock was nothing if not punctual- but she needed to make sure she got an early start this morning. Between spa appointments, a final dress fitting, and a massage to alleviate the stress of her busy schedule, she had a full day ahead of her.

The blinking light on her cell phone caught her eye, and she picked it up, skimming over the latest Gossip Girl blast. Once again, it was about Chuck- ever since his unexpected return, the site had been targeting him relentlessly. Speculation over his sudden reappearance ranged from knocking up his Headmaster's fourteen-year-old daughter, to getting deported for smuggling pot, to involvement in some high-priced European escort service. The only confirmed news, of course, was that he was enrolled at St. Jude's again for the fall semester, and that he and Nate Archibald were currently bromancing their way around Eastern Long Island. The photo in the latest blast featured the two of them enjoying a round of golf the previous afternoon, with Chuck looking every bit the disaffected playboy, and Nate grinning broadly at some undoubtedly inappropriate comment.

Seeing the two of them together again produced an uneasy knot in Blair's stomach, the origins of which she didn't quite understand. She blamed it on concern that so much one-on-one time could lead to Chuck confessing their… transgression, but given that he'd already remained silent for almost a full year, she had no reason to doubt his word. And Nate was clearly benefitting from their little man-dates, since he always returned to Blair in a cheerful mood afterwards.

Chuck, on the other hand, seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her since the previous weekend, which was no easy feat given that they were staying in adjacent bedrooms. Aside from a couple of family dinners and an afternoon at the beach, during which he'd spent an uncharacteristic amount of time in the water, she'd actually seen very little of him. She wouldn't care, of course, except that it meant she'd also seen much less of Nate, leaving her the awkward third wheel in Dan and Serena's juvenile love affair.

But tonight… tonight was going to be perfect. She'd found a stunning outfit for the occasion, a white Marc Jacobs minidress that showed off her shoulders and accentuated her tan. She'd had to get it taken in at the waist this past week, since her diet and fitness regimen was going even better than anticipated. She'd also given Nate explicit instructions on coordinating his own outfit, although with only one color to choose from, he'd needed less guidance than usual. And she had a facial, manicure, pedicure, and hair appointments all lined up for the day, to ensure she looked her absolute best- which was essential, given that every prominent member of NYC society would be present at the party, including a number of influential Yale donors. Of course, she'd also done the requisite background research and compiled a list of conversational topics to discuss with each of them.

Realizing that her musings had put her almost ten minutes behind schedule, Blair hopped out of bed and grabbed her robe, heading for the bathroom across the hall.

As she reached out to grasp the doorknob, it pulled back out of her hand and she stumbled forward, putting her hands out to brace herself and suddenly finding them pressed against Chuck's bare chest… just inches above the towel slung low around his hips, his only attire at the moment.

Frozen in surprise, she found herself mesmerized by the deep brown eyes staring back at her, the hot skin beneath her fingertips. For a brief moment, her fingers curled into his chest and memories rushed back, unbidden, of the last time they'd been in this position- their mouths fused together, his hands tangled in her hair, her hands eagerly divesting him of his towel. The way he'd lifted her onto the bathroom counter, guiding her legs around his waist and pressing his hips intimately into hers. His hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his mouth trailing fervent kisses down her neck.

His breath burning against his ear, as he whispered in exquisite detail what he was about to do to her.

Chuck cleared his throat, and she suddenly realized that she was still touching him… and had now been doing so for a completely inappropriate amount of time. And based on the self-satisfied gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Do you mind?" she snapped, pulling her hands away and averting her eyes.

"Not in the least," he replied sardonically. "Just trying to return to my room without getting molested."

Stepping around her, he continued back down the hall and she stared after him, feeling her eyes irresistibly drawn to his towel-covered backside. Swallowing hard, she stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her in annoyance.

She leaned over the sink and splashed water on her face in an attempt to cool her burning cheeks, mentally castigating herself for acting like such a… desperate floozy. This was _not_ how things were supposed to be, she thought to herself. Chuck was supposed to be the one lusting after _her_, not the other way around. It's not like she was hard up at the moment- she had plenty of perfectly satisfying sex with Nate. Although they had been going through a bit of a dry spell lately…

Blair shook her head hard, attempting to regain some control over her misbehaving libido. She couldn't afford these sorts of distractions today.

* * *

><p>It was late that afternoon when the five teenagers finally piled into Chuck's limo, a parade of white, ivory, cream, and taupe. Dan was content to lean back in his corner, half-listening while Blair and Serena chattered excitedly, mostly about all the super impressive people he'd never heard of who would apparently be attending this party.<p>

He took pains to avoid eye contact with Chuck, as he'd been doing most of the week. There was a fine line between standing his ground and instigating a conflict, he figured, and he much preferred staying on this side of the line. It was also becoming obvious that Nate didn't particularly care for him either- although he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve it, aside from being born middle-class. Basically, this left Dan with only two people in the group who actually liked him, including himself, which was a pretty depressing state of affairs. He'd been looking forward to Jenny and Eric balancing out that ratio, but they were apparently stuck in traffic and heading straight to the party.

And even though Jenny was morally obligated to like him, her transformation into a JV version of Blair Waldorf was starting to become worrisome. He'd called to warn her that Chuck would be at the party, and not only had she been unconcerned, she'd seemed almost… excited? And not a happy, normal sort of excited, more a… well, the kind of excited Blair seemed when she was about to ruin someone's life. It was… troubling, to put it mildly.

"Dan?" His thoughts were interrupted by Serena, who was smiling at him. "How do you like the jacket? Does it fit okay?"

"Oh, yeah." He glanced down at the beige linen sport coat and white trousers he'd borrowed from Serena's grandmother. "It's perfect."

It was a little on the loose side, to be honest, but option B had been his girlfriend buying clothes for him, which was simply too emasculating to consider.

"You look so handsome," she said earnestly.

He smiled and took Serena's hand, admiring the way her loose updo of blonde curls framed her face. She was always beautiful, but tonight, with her halo of golden hair and Grecian-style white dress, she looked… well, like a goddess. Sometimes he would catch himself just staring at her, wondering how on earth he'd gotten so lucky. He gently squeezed her hand, resolving that he would never again be foolish enough to let her go.

The limo pulled to a stop and Arthur opened the door, ushering them towards the party. The lavish estate surpassed even the Rhodes and van der Bilt mansions- elaborate terraces were framed by white columned dividers and immaculately-tended greenery, the multiple pool decks interspersed with fountains, and every surface that wasn't covered with a pool or fountain or ornate statue was decorated with some sort of unnaturally-shaped shrub. Just so you couldn't look in any direction without remembering how rich they were, Dan thought to himself.

Catching sight of Eric and Jenny, he went over to say hello. He hadn't seen Eric since his breakup with Serena last May, so the two chatted about their respective summer vacations and plans for the fall semester.

The conversation was quickly interrupted, however, by Jenny's diatribe about her "heinous bitch" of a boss, who'd apparently made fun of her dress or told her she was just an intern or something similarly trivial. Dan eventually excused himself to get a drink, having become far too familiar with this particular rant over the past three months.

Standing along the outskirts of the gathering, he watched the crowd of white-clad partygoers make contrived small talk, laugh loudly at jokes that weren't funny, and generally just pretend to like each other a lot more than they actually did. The artifice was what really bothered him the most about these people, he thought to himself. Everything was about appearance, expectations, the pretense of being important. And that was what made Serena different from everyone else- she was, quite simply, one of the most genuine people he'd ever met. Her warmth, her exuberance, it was all so real and totally lacking in self-consciousness.

At that moment, she caught his eye and smiled, politely excusing herself from her conversation to return to his side.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the first one to get there. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Dan turned and found himself face-to-face with a petite brunette he hadn't expected (or particularly wanted) to see again.

"Well, if it isn't Dan Humphrey," she snapped, arms crossed over her chest.

"Hey… Melinda," Dan smiled weakly.

"So I guess you're not dead or in a coma. Which would be the only two acceptable reasons for standing me up and never even bothering to call," she retorted.

Feeling Serena's presence behind him, his mind raced to find a way out of this situation.

"Look, I'm really sorry about that-" he began.

"You know, I thought you were different. I didn't think you were the kind of guy to just sleep with a girl and then never call her again." Melinda said accusingly, not even bothering with his apology.

_Shit._

"But I guess you're just like all the rest of these assholes." She glared at him one more time before upending her martini down the front of his shirt. "I hope you get herpes."

And with those eloquent parting words, she turned and stalked away.

Steeling himself for the discussion to come, he turned to face Serena, seeing the distress and uncertainty in her wide blue eyes.

"Who was that?" she asked carefully, trying to conceal the hurt in her voice.

"Just… this girl I hung out with a few times this summer. Not… anybody special," he tried to downplay the situation without sounding like a total dick.

"Did you… sleep with her?" Serena looked down, avoiding his gaze.

"Just… one time." _Or… maybe one and a half times_.

"You told me there hadn't been anyone else," she murmured, sounding more sad than accusatory.

"There hasn't," he responded immediately. "Not anyone serious. That was just… a one-time thing."

Serena nodded.

"So that's it? No one else?" she asked, her expression hopeful.

Dan opened his mouth and then closed it again, unwilling to lie. Her face fell as she recognized the implication.

"Serena-"

"How many?" she interrupted.

He swallowed, wishing he could just fast-forward this whole conversation until everything was okay again. "How many… what?"

"How many girls have you slept since… we were together?" she clarified, her voice wavering slightly.

"Uh…" The fact that he had actually had to think about it wasn't helping his case here. "Five… or six, I guess."

"Six…" her voice trailed off, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I thought you'd only ever been with me."

Okay, so perhaps he should've clarified that, he thought, he'd known it might upset her. But he had no reason to feel guilty.

"Serena, I am… sorry, but… you and I weren't together then," he replied, desperate to explain himself. "I didn't do anything wrong."

She looked away sadly, saying nothing.

"Come on, like you haven't slept with your share of guys this summer?" he continued defensively.

"Why would you even think that?" Serena responded, completely taken aback.

"Well, considering your track record, it seems like a safe assumption." The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Serena inhaled sharply, her expression turning from hurt to indignation.

"Well, for your information, I haven't slept with _anyone_, because I was too busy thinking about _you_," she retorted. "But thanks for letting me know what a waste of time that was." Her voice broke slightly over the last words, and she turned, striding away in a whirlwind of white chiffon and golden curls.

Dan stared after her in consternation, wondering how he could possibly fix this.

* * *

><p><em>As you stand<br>Under the bar lights  
>And the band plays some song about forgetting yourself for a while<br>And the piano's this melancholy soundtrack to her smile  
>And that white dress she's wearing, you haven't seen it<br>For a while_

* * *

><p>Observing the tense scene from across the party, Chuck leaned against one of the pillars and languidly swirled a glass of scotch in his hands. He was actually surprised Humphrey had managed to fuck things up so quickly; he'd expected it to take at least another few weeks. But as far as Chuck was concerned, anything that removed Dan's tedious presence from his life was a good thing- and if it had the added benefit of bringing back Fun Serena, so much the better.<p>

His eyes shifted to the pool area, where Nate and Blair were chatting with an Archibald family friend- and Yale alumnus, if he remembered correctly. Even from across the party, he could see that Blair was turning on the charm full-throttle, working those big brown eyes and engaging smile for all they were worth. His eyes slid over her figure, enticed by the way the scalloped layers of her white dress outlined her curves, her tanned legs accentuated by 4-inch slingback heels. Loose chestnut brown curls skimmed her shoulders, framed by a white flowered handband. He briefly fantasized about sweeping them aside so he could bury his face into her neck, pressing his mouth against the smooth skin behind her ear and breathing in her alluring fragrance.

Watching her laugh, as she slipped her hand into Nate's and intertwined their fingers, he felt a familiar clenching in his gut. And in an instant, he realized he was right back where he'd been last winter- watching from the shadows like a pathetic stalker while Blair made it obvious just how much she preferred his best friend. _Fuck._ Half the reason he'd left in the first place was to avoid ending up in this exact situation, which never failed to make him feel like complete shit.

He took a sip of his scotch, feeling it burn its way down his throat, and tried to understand why the hell it bothered him so much. So Nate's girlfriend of six years preferred Nate- this was neither surprising nor particularly noteworthy. Clearly she liked Chuck enough to fuck him- repeatedly- which was really the only sort of liking that interested him anyway. And if her behavior this morning was anything to go on, those feelings were still very much present. His jaw tightened as he remembered her staring up at him, her soft hands pressed against his chest, her full lips parted slightly. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to not pull her body against his and claim her mouth with a hungry, passionate kiss.

He gave his head a quick shake, reminding himself once again of the potential consequences. Anyway, the fact that this option was no longer available to him was… aggravating, of course, but it wasn't like he couldn't work out his frustrations elsewhere.

He scanned the women at the party, searching for that perfect mix of hot and desperate that virtually guaranteed him some action. His eyes landed on a statuesque blonde, the neckline of her tight white dress barely high enough to still be considered respectable, her blue eyes gazing back at him with shameless interest. _Perfect._

He downed the remainder of his drink in one gulp and strode towards her, resolving to put Blair out of his mind even if it required screwing every last bimbo at this party.

* * *

><p><em>But you know<br>That she's watching  
>She's laughing, she's turning<br>She's holding her tonic like a cross  
>The room suddenly spinning, she walks up and asks how you are<br>So you can smell her perfume  
>You can see her lying naked in your arms<em>

* * *

><p>Stifling a yawn, Blair did her best to keep the smile pasted on her face while Nate and James discussed the intricacies of yachting. This particular topic hadn't been on her list, since her only interest in boats involved sunning herself on them. So she allowed her mind to wander, inspecting the rest of the party for guests whose acquaintance might be somehow advantageous for her.<p>

Her eyes caught suddenly on Chuck, leaning against the bar and blatantly flirting with some… horse-faced tramp. Although, based on the direction of his gaze, he didn't seem all that interested in her face anyway. Blair's eyes narrowed in disgust as the girl let out a simpering laugh, stroking her fingers down his lapel in a gesture that was about as subtle as an air-raid siren.

She couldn't blame her for being interested, as Chuck was looking… particularly fine tonight, Blair admitted to herself. His white suit was so well-tailored, it looked as though it had been sewn onto him, the fabric clinging almost indecently to his narrow hips and waist. Accented by black trim along the lapel and a patterned black ascot, it was an outfit few men could've pulled off, but Chuck was so supremely self-assured that he exuded sex appeal in pretty much anything… whether it was a school uniform, or his ridiculous scarf, or a… towel…

"Hey Blair," a voice interrupted her thoughts and she frowned in irritation, turning to see Jenny Humphrey standing in front of her.

"Hey… Jenny." She smiled tightly.

"Great party, huh? You'll never guess who Eric just introduced me to!"

"I couldn't possibly," Blair responded, not even bothering to sound interested.

"Tinsley Mortimer! And she even complimented my dress," Jenny replied happily. Well, leave it to Jenny to work herself into a tizzy over some throwaway comment.

"That's… very exciting. Anyway, if you'll excuse me," she said dismissively, starting to edge her way past the other girl.

"Actually, Blair, there's one other thing I need to talk to you about." Jenny's voice suddenly assumed a hard edge, and Blair stopped in her tracks.

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well, I was thinking that you'll probably need some help planning the Snowflake ball, so I figured I would volunteer to co-chair the committee with you." Jenny smiled, the cheerful expression not quite reaching her eyes.

"That's very kind of you to offer, but I'm sure I can handle it on my own," Blair replied with an equally insincere smile. She was in no mood to deal with Jenny right now.

"Well, if you're sure." Jenny paused a moment. "So I see Chuck's back in town, you must be so excited."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "Absolutely," she responded.

"After all, you two have always been such… close friends," Jenny continued, the sharp undertone becoming more prominent.

Blair glanced over to Nate, who was deep in conversation several feet away, before letting her façade drop as well. "I've done more than enough for you already, Jenny," she snapped in a low voice. "You can't just threaten me every time you want something."

The blonde smiled back smugly. "Actually, as long as you want to keep this to yourself… I'm pretty sure I can."

Feeling the rage build up inside her, but impotent to do anything about it, Blair struggled to keep her composure. "Fine," she retorted. "But it's not just a title. You'd better be prepared to do some work."

"I look forward to it." With one last smirk, Jenny turned and strolled away, waving a hello to Nate as she passed by.

Blair was left fuming, her hand clenched tightly around the stem of her glass. _Who the hell does she think she is?_ Planning the Snowflake ball was something she'd been looking forward to for years, and to have to share it with Jenny Humphrey, of all people, was completely unacceptable. A sophomore co-chair? It was… unheard of.

She threw one last glance towards Nate, oblivious as ever, before setting her glass down- with far more force than necessary- and stalking off towards the far terrace, needing some time to compose herself.

* * *

><p><em>And so there's a change<br>In your emotions  
>And all of these memories come rushing like feral waves to your mind<br>Of the curl of your bodies, like two perfect circles entwined  
>And you feel hopeless, and homeless, and lost in the haze of the wine<em>

* * *

><p>Half an hour later found Blair considerably more poised, after a stroll through the rose garden had calmed her overwrought nerves. She carefully smoothed down her hair and adjusted the hemline of her dress before heading back towards the main house.<p>

As she rounded the path, she heard a tipsy-sounding giggle followed by a faint moan. Blair stopped in her tracks, realizing that she'd inadvertently stumbled upon a couple in the throes of a rather public makeout session. She rolled her eyes, wondering at the hopeless vulgarity of someone who would behave in such a manner at an exclusive society party. Readying her most disdainful glare, she proceeded around the corner- only to feel her heart plummet to her feet at the sight before her.

Chuck was locked in a heated embrace with an eager blonde, his mouth moving feverishly against hers, his hands tangled in her hair. Blair stared in shock as he pressed her back against the white stone column, moaning into her mouth as she fumbled impatiently with the front of his trousers. His hands trailed down to her ass, sliding under her dress and pressing her intimately against him. _Get out of here before he sees you_, her brain commanded, but her legs felt rooted to the ground. She watched the girl's lips work their way down his neck, and the expression of unabashed pleasure on his face produced a sharp pain in her chest, making her gasp for breath.

As if he heard her reaction, Chuck's eyes suddenly opened and he looked directly at her. Frozen in place, she stared back, unable to hide the hurt and dismay written all over her face. For one endless moment, their eyes remained locked on each other, hers shimmering with unshed tears, his reflecting surprise and confusion.

Mercifully regaining the ability to move her legs, Blair escaped before she could embarrass herself any further. She hurried back along the garden path, berating herself for such a ridiculous overreaction. God, what would Chuck think? That she was _jealous_? That she wished it had been _her_ pressed up against him, kissing his neck, making him moan like that? And after what had happened this morning...

She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, feeling the tears still threatening to overflow. What was the _matter_ with her? She had a boyfriend, she loved her boyfriend, and _he_ was the one she was supposed to be thinking about doing… dirty things to. It had to be the dry spell, she thought to herself, it was the only explanation that made any sense. Resolving to end their sex drought immediately, she took a deep, steadying breath and headed back to the party.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks as usual to Terrabeth for her magical beta skills, and for laying the smack down on my incorrect use of conjunctions. I'd say I learned my lesson, but that's probably a lie.

Thoughts? Praise? Angry rants? Rotten tomatoes? I love all reviews :)


	8. Young Blood

.

**Chapter 8: Young Blood**

_Can't help myself but count the flaws__  
><em>_Claw my way out through these walls__  
><em>_One temporary escape__  
><em>_Feel it start to permeate_

–_The Naked and Famous_

Blair grumbled to herself, having been awoken not by the gentle buzzing of her alarm clock, but rather the snoring of her hungover blonde bedmate.

"Serena." She poked her friend in the ribs. No response.

"_Serena_." She poked again, harder this time, provoking a groan and shift in position… and thankfully, a silencing of that ungodly racket.

Letting her head drop back against the pillow, Blair stared at the ceiling, trying to make some sense out of the previous evening's events. After accidentally catching Chuck mid-hookup with his nasty blonde bimbo- his judgment obviously having been impaired by the Scotch version of beer goggles - she had, to her utmost humiliation, reacted with the indignity of a scorned girlfriend.

She still couldn't explain it, but she'd realized afterwards that she hadn't actually seen Chuck so much as kiss anyone else since they'd slept together. And since he'd been her first, perhaps there was some sort of… weird possessiveness, deeply rooted in her subconscious.

Anyway, the disconcerting flurry of emotions had left her determined to prove her subconscious wrong, so she'd dragged Nate off for a little drought-ending rendezvous. Extricating him from his yachting conversation had taken only a few not-so-subtle innuendos, but then the issue of location arose. She certainly wasn't classless enough to just throw down behind some random shrub. Nate had then suggested Chuck's limo, which seemed inappropriate for… so many reasons, so she'd insisted on returning to the van der Bilt house.

Once they were finally alone in his room, they'd had sex for the first time in almost two weeks, and it had certainly been enjoyable- sweet, gentle, and, well… satisfying. She had no complaints about Nate's bedroom abilities, although he could afford to be a bit more… generous with the foreplay. But even lying cradled in his arms afterwards, which always made her feel content and protected, she couldn't prevent the unwelcome doubts that crept into her mind. She wondered why she always had to initiate the sex, why he never felt that overwhelming need to just take her, right then and there. And to be completely honest, she rarely felt that sort of urgency either- sometimes it felt more like she was trying to prove something to him, or to herself.

But their cuddling, and her internal monologue, was interrupted by a call from Serena, who was clearly distressed and more than a little bit drunk. So she'd gotten dressed and headed home, spending the remainder of the evening consoling her sad, intoxicated best friend.

"_He thinks I'm a whore." Serena said mournfully, her words muffled by the pillow into which she'd face-planted. _

"_I'm sure he doesn't think that. You probably just… heard him wrong," Blair rubbed Serena's back, trying to pacify her. _

"_But he basically… said it. He said with my… 'track record.'" Another muffled sob. "He knows how hard I've tried to… change… and I thought… I thought he believed in me…"_

_Blair sighed. God, Humphrey was such an ass. Not to mention a hypocrite, if Serena's barely-coherent account was anything to go on._

"_S, I'm sure he didn't mean it. Just talk to him tomorrow, I'm sure he'll apologize," she said soothingly, stroking her friend's hair. "And if he doesn't, well… he doesn't deserve you anyway." _

_Which was pretty much a foregone conclusion, she thought, but not the sort of thing drunk, morose Serena probably wanted to hear right now._

_The only audible response was a hiccup. _

"_S?" More silence._

_Sighing, she made sure Serena's head was turned to the side and dragged a trashcan over next to the bed. _

_It was going to be a long night._

And it had been, made even longer by the fact that she'd lain awake, staring at the ceiling and listening for Chuck to return home. It wasn't until well after midnight that she finally heard footsteps in the hallway, which she could've sworn paused briefly outside her room, before continuing to his. She'd tried to brush aside her feeling of relief at hearing only one set, because she certainly had no business caring about that.

"B?" A hoarse whisper emerged from beneath Serena's tangle of hair.

Returning to the present, Blair focused her attention on her hungover, possibly still drunk, and almost certainly about-to-be-sick best friend.

"Morning, S."

"My head hurts," she replied in a sad whimper.

Well, that was hardly surprising. Serena didn't have the tolerance of her former party-girl days, and she appeared to have drunk approximately half her body weight in martinis the night before.

"I'll go get you some Advil." Blair slid out of bed and put on her slippers, padding towards the door. "… and some Gatorade… and… a hair brush." She hadn't heard any noise from the hallway, so hopefully she could avoid another half-naked bathroom confrontation. That was the last thing she needed right now; the limo ride home was going to be awkward enough.

The second she set foot outside the room, however, she ran almost straight into Lily, who looked like she was about to knock on the door.

"Oh, good morning Blair!" she smiled. "Is my daughter awake? I just wanted to say goodbye before Eric and I left for the city."

Trying to subtly shield the door with her body, Blair's mind raced to come up with an excuse.

"Oh, she's still sound asleep, I couldn't even wake her when I tried. We stayed up late watching a movie after we got home last night," she improvised quickly. "I can just tell her you'll see her at the penthouse tonight?"

"Of course, I wouldn't want to wake her if she's that tired." Lily acceded, apparently buying the flimsy explanation. "Well then, I'll just see you both back in the city!"

With that, she departed, and Blair breathed a sigh of relief. Well, attentive parenting had never been one of Lily's stronger points- she hadn't even noticed that Serena had been sleeping in Dan's room for the past week, or that her daughter had presumably been falling-down-drunk at a party where she was also in attendance.

Remembering her mission, Blair set about preparing Serena for what was likely to be a rather unpleasant morning.

* * *

><p>Chuck settled into the back seat of the limo while Arthur loaded his bags into the trunk, glancing at his watch. He was right on time- and yet, no one else was here. He'd avoided breakfast because he still had no idea how to deal with Blair at the moment, and he didn't want to risk the potential awkwardness of a one-on-one situation.<p>

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He could still picture the expression on Blair's face when she saw him and… Alyssa? Alana? She'd looked hurt, betrayed, and on the verge of tears. And in his twelve years of knowing Blair Waldorf, this was not a common occurrence- at least not in response to anything _he_ did. He'd been tempted to go after her, but the absurdity of chasing down his best friend's girlfriend, for the sole purpose of determining whether she might be jealous, had not escaped him. And to be honest, he did take a certain vengeful satisfaction in her finally experiencing a little taste of what she'd put him through for so many months.

Regardless, he'd looked for her when he'd returned to the party, but both she and Nate were nowhere to be found. Based on that, he figured he'd probably rather not find her anyway. And what would he have even said if he did? She would almost certainly deny it, probably laugh at him, and tell him to get over himself. There was no way for that conversation to end anything but badly for him.

Roused from his brooding by the sound of the car door opening, he found himself face-to-face with the object of his thoughts. Their eyes met for one brief moment before she averted her gaze, taking a seat as far away from him as possible.

As upset as Blair had been the last time he'd seen her, she looked perfectly calm and in control of herself now. Her bright coral skirt contrasted beautifully with a cream-colored top, a loose bow draped across the neckline. Her chestnut curls were artfully arranged over one shoulder in a low ponytail, not a hair out of place, and her legs were crossed primly at the ankles.

And she seemed intent on pretending that he was not, in fact, in the car with her.

"Where's Serena?" Chuck asked, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"I don't know, I thought she was already out here," Blair replied, clearly implying that she wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise.

Chuck nodded in response. "And Dan?"

"I think Dan… might not be joining us. I stopped by his room and his stuff was already gone," Blair answered, still not meeting his gaze.

He chuckled softly. "Well, that's the best news I've heard all week."

"I know, right?" Blair smiled back at him for a brief moment, before she remembered to deliberately evade his gaze again.

Several minutes of silence passed, as Chuck stared pensively at Blair and she took pains to ignore him.

_Okay, this is ridiculous, one of us has to say something_, he thought.

"So how was… the rest of your evening?" he asked carefully, deciding to avoid specifics.

"Fabulous," she replied instantly. "I finally got Nate all to myself for the first time all week."

The slightly triumphant note in her voice wasn't lost on him- nor was her implication.

"Sounds fun," he responded, assuming a disaffected tone.

She nodded.

"And how was the rest of _your_ evening?" This time, the bitchiness was unmistakable, although she appeared to regret the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

"Fabulous," Chuck echoed back, smirking. "I certainly have missed… American girls."

A disdainful sniff and a slight narrowing of her eyes was her only response. For some reason, he couldn't help pushing just a bit further.

"Why… are you jealous?"

At his words, her head snapped up.

"_Jealous?_" she scoffed, as if the idea were too absurd to even consider. "I think you're confusing disgust with jealousy, Bass."

Well, it's not like he'd expected her to actually admit it- but she didn't have to act like it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

"I didn't realize disgust brought you to _tears_," he retorted.

Blair inhaled sharply, spearing him with a withering glare. "In case you don't recall, I turned down the opportunity to be _that girl _in favor of a better option."

Feeling the painful sting of rejection all over again, he assumed an expression of bored indifference.

"And how's that working out for you? Still desperate for the attention you're not getting from your boyfriend?" he asked disdainfully.

Blair glared back at him, fuming in anger. "What, do you want a blow-by-blow account of all the sex we had last night? Or are you actually delusional enough to imagine I was thinking about _you _during it?"

It took all of his self-control to not flinch at her words, which felt like a punch to the gut. In a moment of reckless anger, he retaliated with the one thing he knew would shut her up.

"Well, maybe you should. It'd give you something to do while _Nate's_ thinking about _Serena_."

Startled into silence, Blair could only stare at him in disbelief, her angry indignation replaced by hurt. Swallowing tightly, she said nothing in response, turning to stare blindly out the window.

_Fuck._ It didn't matter what she'd said to provoke him- he still felt like he'd just kicked a goddamn puppy. He opened his mouth and closed it again, clenching his jaw in frustration.

Serena chose that exact moment to show up- but, fortunately, she was far too hungover to notice the emotionally fraught atmosphere. Leaving her sunglasses on even inside the limo, she slouched in the corner with a pitiful sigh.

After lowering the partition and instructing Arthur to head to the van der Bilt estate, Chuck leaned back in his seat, staring out the window and wondering how he'd managed to make this situation into more of a mess than it already was.

* * *

><p>Blair felt a rush of relief when Nate finally joined them, his amiable presence diffusing the tension in the limo… and giving her something to focus on besides making sure Serena didn't drool on her shoulder.<p>

"How's she doing?" he whispered, giving Blair a kiss on the cheek. Her smile tightened in response- but that had been the reason she'd left the night before, so it made sense for him to ask.

"I'm right here, you know," Serena grumbled, removing her sunglasses to reveal a tired and watery set of blue eyes.

"Okay then- how are you doing, Serena?" Nate shot back with a boyish grin. "You look a little… under the weather."

"Yeah, that's… about how I feel," she nodded and then winced, as if the movement pained her.

Nate took a brief glance around the limo. "So Dan's not here?" he asked.

_Perceptive as usual_, Blair thought to herself.

"I think he's taking the Jitney. I may have… suggested something to that effect last night," Serena admitted.

"Wait, last night?" Blair didn't recall that coming up during Serena's drunken ramblings. "What did you say to him last night?"

"Well, he came up to me later at the party and tried to apologize, and I may have told him… where he could shove his apology," Serena confessed, looking embarrassed. "And I may have also told him to take the bus home today because I didn't want to see or talk to him. And I may also… have thrown my drink at him."

_Wow, rough night for Dan_, Blair thought, trying not to laugh. She couldn't blame him for making a strategic retreat after having two separate girls douse him with cocktails.

"Not that I really needed that drink anyway, because I'd probably had… quite a few already," Serena continued, covering her face with her hands.

"So all it takes to make Humphrey go away is getting sloppy drunk and throwing a martini at him?" Chuck asked, with a wry smile.

Serena dropped her hands to glare at him. "Apparently, yes."

"If I'd known that, I would've tried it years ago," he said, feigning a regretful sigh.

Blair rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You're not helping, Chuck."

"Not trying to," he returned, grinning unapologetically. She suppressed a smirk in response, before remembering that she still hated him.

Ugh, how did he do that? How could he be a total dick, piss her off, and then do something to make her laugh five minutes later?

_That is not how Blair Waldorf operates_, she reminded herself. _Blair Waldorf holds grudges_.

"But seriously Serena, don't let whatever he said upset you," Nate interjected. "You're amazing, and you deserve a guy who appreciates you… not someone who makes you feel bad about yourself."

"Thanks Nate," Serena responded with a genuine smile.

It didn't matter that it was exactly the same thing Blair would've said- coming from her boyfriend, it still produced a despondent ache in the pit of her stomach. And all because of one spiteful comment, she thought, feeling her indignation return and once again resolving to hate Chuck indefinitely.

Blair propped her chin on her hand and stared out at the passing scenery, only half-listening as Nate tried to cheer Serena up. She'd been the one holding Serena's hair back while she puked for the last few hours, so if Nate thought a Youtube video of funny cat bloopers was all it took to cure her hangover, he could have at it. She could still feel Chuck's eyes on her, but she had no idea if his expression was apologetic or mocking- she kept her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

Over the din of Nate and Serena's giggling, she heard Chuck take a phone call, her attention suddenly caught by his tense, evasive tone.

"I can't really talk right now," he said abruptly. "I'll give you a call back when I get home." He hung up his phone, staring pensively at it for a moment before glancing at Nate.

_Probably just his dealer_, she thought scornfully, returning her attention to the window. She was officially done thinking about Chuck Bass for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>"So exactly how long are you planning on being pissy about this?" Dan grumbled, dropping his duffel bag by the sofa. Jenny had barely spoken to him for most of the ride home, and since he'd been in a terrible mood already, this was not helping matters.<p>

"Well gee, Dan, something about having to sneak out of the house this morning and take a bus back to the city, just because you had to go and fuck things up with Serena, left me in a pretty pissy mood," Jenny replied, slamming the door behind them.

"Yeah, I get it, your life is hard, Jen," Dan rolled his eyes. "Thanks for showing some concern for me, by the way, since I'm the one who actually had a huge fight with my _girlfriend_."

"Given that it was entirely your own fault, I'm having a little trouble mustering up sympathy," Jenny shot back.

She went to the kitchen, yanking open the refrigerator and retrieving a carton of orange juice. "And I think you're underestimating the effect of your relationship drama on my life, Dan. I can't afford to have Serena and her friends hate me," she added sharply.

"Oh my God, are you actually making this all about you and your… social-climbing agenda?" Dan replied in astonishment. "Are you seriously that self-absorbed?"

"Or maybe I'm just not content with everyone at school thinking I'm a hopeless loser," she retorted, closing the refrigerator with more force than necessary.

Dan gritted his teeth in frustration. "Even if that _were_ the most important issue at hand here, I don't see how you have anything to worry about. You're already friends with Blair and Serena, they won't turn on you just because of me."

Jenny let out a humorless laugh.

"Is that what you really think, Dan?" she shook her head, as if he were being hopelessly naïve. "Blair hates me. The only reason she tolerates having me around is because I know about her and Chuck."

"Wait, you- what? How do you know about that?" Dan stammered. He'd thought it was a closely-guarded secret- how on earth had Jenny found out?

"Umm, because Serena told you, and we live in a loft apartment without any walls?"

Dan's mouth dropped open in shock. He knew Jenny had gotten a little more… well, superficial and manipulative over the last six months, but he couldn't believe it had gone this far.

"So you… spied on my private conversation with Serena, and now you're using that information to blackmail your way into some… mean girl clique?"

"Oh, don't get all self-righteous on me, Dan." Jenny rolled her eyes. "Your precious Serena is part of that 'mean girl clique' too. Besides, I'm just playing Blair at her own game."

Dan sighed in frustration. Her condescending tone was really starting to work his last nerve. "Why do you have to play any games, Jen? You're… better than this petty high school crap."

"No, _you_ are the one who thinks he's too good for petty high school crap like popularity and having friends," she replied scathingly, taking a sip of her juice. "It suits me just fine. But the point is, if this comes out, I have no more leverage- and Blair will do everything in her power to ruin me. So I need _you_ to keep your damn mouth shut about it, and in the meantime, not screw things up for me by making yourself more enemies."

Dan bit his lip to keep from saying something he'd likely regret- if nothing else, he'd learned his lesson the previous night. Inhaling deeply, he paused to consider his next words.

"I'm not going to say a word about your… blackmail material, because it's not any of my business, and because I actually have no desire to hurt Blair, or Nate, or certainly Serena." _Chuck, well... that's a different story._ "But I'm keeping quiet because it's the right thing to do, not to maintain your precious social status. When it comes to that bullshit, you're on your own."

And with that, he strode into his room and shut the door, leaning back against it as he sighed in frustration. When the hell had Jenny crossed over to the dark side? What had happened to the sweet little sister who actually used to respect and look up to him? That naive, innocent young girl who was willing to carry books, fetch dry-cleaning, basically perform servant duties in the hopes that she might get a party invitation… now she'd transformed into a full-on backstabbing, life-ruining bitch, and God help anyone who got in her way.

A nagging voice in his head reminded him of his own brief foray into the world of blackmail, but he quickly dismissed it. _That was a totally different situation_, he thought_. That was a… defensive tactic._

But never mind that- figuring out what to do about Serena was his main concern at the moment. She'd laid into him like nobody's business the night before, but he was still holding out some hope that she'd just been drunk and hadn't really meant it. Maybe he should text her? Later, when she had time to recover… or maybe that was too impersonal. A phone call would really be better… but he'd have to plan out exactly what he was going to say… or he could stop by, but would that be too… presumptuous?

Laying down across the width of his bed, Dan stared at the ceiling and contemplated his next move.

* * *

><p><em>The bittersweet between my teeth<em>_  
><em>_Trying to find the in-between__  
><em>_Fall back in love eventually__  
><em>_Yeah yeah yeah yeah_

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Blair was relaxing in her tub, relishing the soothing effects of the warm water and the sweet aroma of her favorite bath oil. Most of all, she was enjoying the opportunity to finally have some time to herself. Summer vacation had been wonderful, of course, but she'd rarely had a Serena- or Nate-free moment. And as much as she loved both of them, trying to keep pace with their cheerful dispositions and mindless chatter was… exhausting, quite frankly.<p>

And with Eleanor still out of the country for the rest of the week, she basically had the whole penthouse to herself, and no one around to hassle her for having a glass of champagne and three macarons for dinner. Well, except for Dorota, whom she'd placated with an excuse about a "full lunch".

Hearing the jingle of her phone, she wiped the bubbles off her hand and picked it up. Seeing "Nate" flash across the screen, she sighed in annoyance- she was really in no mood to deal with him right now. After Chuck's nasty insinuation, for Nate to spend the majority of the ride home talking to Serena had been downright humiliating, and his kiss goodbye had been indifferent at best.

"Hi sweetie," she greeted him, with more enthusiasm than she actually felt.

"Hey Blair," he responded. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, not much…" she let her voice trail off. When she was met with silence, she realized that this was one of those times when Nate called for a reason, but didn't want to come out and say what it was, so she'd have to drag it out of him. _Ugh, men._ "How are you? Did you have a nice dinner with Tripp?"

"Yeah, it was fun. Sounds like he and Maureen are getting pretty serious."

"Oh, that's wonderful news." Blair played idly with the bubbles on top of her bath water. "We should set up a lunch date with them."

"Yeah, definitely," Nate agreed. Then came more silence.

"So… anything on your mind?" She was rapidly losing patience for this game.

"Well, uh… good news, I guess. My mom told me that we're going to be all set financially for awhile," he responded casually, as if it were no big deal.

The water sloshed around her as she sat straight up in the tub, momentarily forgetting her irritation. "Oh Nate, that's great news! What happened? Did they unfreeze some of your accounts?"

"No, well… that situation hasn't changed at all. But I guess my mom got a loan from a family friend, and it's enough to tide us over for the rest of the year. Hopefully by then, the whole investigation will be over and done with." He sounded more optimistic than he had in weeks, and she couldn't help smiling in response.

"Well, that's wonderful, sweetie. I'm so glad you don't have to worry about this anymore."

"Yeah, I mean… it's a little embarrassing to have to borrow money, I guess, she wouldn't even tell me who loaned it to us," he admitted. "But it's definitely a relief."

"There's nothing embarrassing about it- I'm sure you'll be able to pay them back in no time," Blair said, trying to sound reassuring. "Well, we should do something to celebrate. Dinner tomorrow, Gramercy Tavern?"

"Sounds great. I'll talk to you tomorrow, then." He paused for just a moment. "Love you."

"Love you too."

She couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. She was thankful that Nate's family wasn't going to end up in the poorhouse, obviously, but also that he was free from the stress of worrying about it, which had made him even more broody and inattentive than usual. With his financial situation squared away, hopefully their relationship could finally get back on track.

Returning to her relaxation, she picked up the paperback she'd left lying next to the tub. It was a standard historical romance novel, the cover art depicting some long-haired lothario on a horse, one arm clutching his amply-endowed maiden. It was the sort of book she'd be far too embarrassed to actually read in public, of course, but sometimes fiction of the mindless bodice-ripping variety was exactly what she needed.

Opening the well-worn novel to a dog-eared page, she returned to one of her favorite scenes. Tristan had just come upon the young queen Isolde bathing in the woods- and even though she was betrothed to another man and he was sworn to protect her innocence, he found himself unable to resist her. Suffice to say, she didn't remain innocent for long.

Lost in her reading, Blair almost didn't hear Dorota call up from downstairs.

"Miss Blair, Mister Chuck for you."

Startled into dropping her book in the water, she cursed, quickly drying it off with a towel and scrambling out of the tub. Knowing him, he wasn't going to just wait downstairs, and the last thing she needed was to be found in a… compromising position. She toweled off quickly, throwing on a silk robe and hurrying back into her bedroom- only to find Chuck lounging against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his appreciative gaze taking in her flimsy attire.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember inviting you upstairs," Blair said haughtily, tightening the belt of her robe for good measure. "Perhaps you could wait in the foyer?"

"But then I would miss out on all this," he responded with a smirk, his eyes raking over her figure.

Blair swallowed uncomfortably. "So did you just drop by to make pervy comments, or is there an actual reason for this visit?"

Stepping forward, he closed the bedroom door behind him, and her heart began to thump in her ears. Unwittingly she took a step back, before realizing he was just going to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat there for a moment, saying nothing, looking down at his own interlaced fingers.

He finally looked up at her, his previously smarmy expression replaced by something… unreadable.

"Blair…" he began, and then paused.

Fascinated by the sight of Chuck Bass at an apparent loss for words, she could do nothing but stare back at him.

"Look, I… I'm sorry for what I said earlier," he finally finished, again looking down at his hands.

A prolonged silence stretched between them, as Blair was both stunned by his words and rather enjoying his obvious unease. Eventually she took a seat on the bed next to him- she'd read in Cosmo that men were more comfortable having serious conversations side-by-side… something about being intimidated by direct eye contact.

"An apology? What did I do to warrant such a monumental concession?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

"I was just pissed and said something I shouldn't have. That's all." His tone made it clear that apology time was now over, and he started to rise from the bed- she made a move to stop him, not really thinking the gesture through until she found her hand pressed against his thigh. She pulled it back hastily, but not before feeling the heat of his body through his trousers.

She swallowed, intertwining her fingers in her lap.

"I shouldn't have said what I did either," she admitted. "I was… upset too."

She could feel Chuck's eyes on her, but she kept her gaze directed downwards. She didn't know how she would react if she looked at him right now, and she wasn't willing to take the chance.

For several minutes, they sat next to each other in quiet contemplation, neither knowing what to say next. There was no disputing the accuracy of their earlier barbs, of course; it was always the truth that hurt the most. But she couldn't help feeling like something had changed between them, although she had no idea what that was.

"I guess being friends is a little more complicated than we thought," she said wryly, finally breaking the silence.

"I guess so," he replied impassively.

But when Blair finally looked up to meet his gaze, the intensity of repressed emotion she saw in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. For just a moment, she allowed herself to savor the warmth of those deep brown irises- and, suddenly, the air between the two of them grew tense, heavy with things left unsaid.

Feeling her disobedient thoughts start to wander in a direction they shouldn't, she quickly cleared her throat and stood up, averting her gaze.

"Well, I should be getting back to my bath …" She demurred, fidgeting with the tie of her robe.

Normally he would've offered to join her, with some suggestive comment about washing whatever she couldn't reach. She could tell from the slight quirk of his lips that the thought had occurred to him.

But it seemed that they both recognized the precariousness of their current situation.

"So I'll see you at school." He rose from the bed, pausing for just a moment. "Goodnight, Blair."

"Goodnight Chuck," she echoed, watching him leave.

Sitting back on her bed, she wrapped her robe tighter around her body- as if by doing so, she could conceal the surge of contradictory emotions flooding through her.

* * *

><p><em>We lie beneath the stars at night<em>_  
><em>_Our hands gripping each other tight__  
><em>_You keep my secrets hope to die__  
><em>_Promises, swear them to the sky_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: As always, thanks to Terrabeth for her fantastic beta work, especially her tireless attempts to rein in my love affair with commas.

So… how long until Nate officially becomes a third wheel in his own relationship? What should Dan do to win Serena back (besides not accidentally call her a tramp again)? Who's going to win this round of Queen B vs. Little J?

As usual, I love to hear your thoughts :)


	9. Drumming Song

.

**Chapter 9: Drumming Song**

_There's a drumming noise inside my head  
>That starts when you're around<br>I swear that you could hear it  
>It makes such an all mighty sound<em>

_-Florence + The Machine_

Tuesday morning was bright and sunny, with an unmistakable crispness to the air heralding the arrival of autumn. Students milled about the brick courtyard between Constance Billard and St. Jude's in a parade of plaid skirts and striped ties, waving to each other in greeting, gossiping about the long summer break, and surreptitiously assessing each other's appearance.

Blair was holding court on the front steps, sipping an iced latte and half-listening as her posse of minions chattered. She'd accessorized her uniform with a lacy white Chanel cape and rhinestone headband, and her dark curls were highlighted with a golden tint after months in the sun.

"I love your shoes, Blair," Hazel gushed, admiring her wingtip Mary Janes.

"Thanks." Blair smiled loftily. Hazel was relatively new to the group, but so far she seemed deferential and eager to please.

She crossed her legs at the ankles, sipping her coffee as she took another glance at her watch. Serena was running late, as usual.

"So what's going on with Serena and Dan?" Penelope asked in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in to the center of their little circle.

"We all saw that blast about them fighting at the White Party," Iz chimed in.

Blair sighed and shrugged her shoulders. Dan and Serena's melodrama had been a hot topic on Gossip Girl for the past few days, ever since a picture of them arguing had been sent out the morning after the party. _Well, at least breaking up makes their relationship slightly more interesting_, she thought.

"They met for dinner last night to talk about things," she replied noncommittally. "I assume it went well, since I didn't hear anything from her afterwards."

The girls let out near-simultaneous sighs of annoyance. Dan Humphrey was not considered suitable boyfriend material for a member of their clique, although none of them would dare say it to Serena's face.

"I was hoping she might have found a more… appropriate companion over the summer," Penelope commented haughtily.

"You and me both," Blair returned wryly. "Unfortunately, she wasn't interested in even looking. I had to practically twist her arm to get her to go on a rebound date with a hot lifeguard."

She glanced at her watch once again. Unless she arrived in the next five minutes, Serena wouldn't even have time for her latte.

At that moment, a sleek black limo pulled up, stopping just outside the wrought iron gates. The door opened and Serena climbed out, tossing an irritated glare backwards before hurrying towards the steps. Eric soon followed, accompanied by Chuck, who was sporting an insolent grin.

Of course, even running late, Serena looked effortlessly perfect. She had paired her plaid skirt with a simple white t-shirt, a loosely-knotted tie, and a scarf tied atop her blonde waves.

Blair raised an eyebrow at her.

"I thought we were meeting at 7:30?"

"Sorry, sorry." Serena joined Blair on the uppermost step, grabbing her coffee. "I would've been here sooner, except apparently my _stepbrother _thought it would be funny to use my shower and then get high in my bathroom."

Blair glanced over at Chuck, who'd joined a group of boys at the bottom of the stairs. _Well, he does look pretty relaxed_, she thought, watching him recline against the railing, hands in his pockets. _Not to mention, awfully good in that uniform_… His school-issued blazer was tailored to fit him perfectly, as was the… inseam of his trousers. A light breeze tousled his hair and she watched, oddly transfixed, as it moved across his forehead. _Has he always looked like that?_

As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked up and their eyes met. Reminding herself of their truce, she forced her lips into a friendly smile of greeting, and the corner of his mouth tilted upwards in response.

Glancing away, Blair took a sip of her latte to moisten her suddenly dry mouth.

"I burned some incense, but it still reeks in there," Serena groused. "Seriously, I can't believe I have to live with him for the rest of the year. He can be such an asshole."

"Come on, Serena, he's not that bad," Blair responded distractedly.

Serena's eyebrows furrowed as she regarded her friend with suspicion. "I'm sorry, what?"

Realizing that the other girls were now staring at her in confusion, Blair quickly regrouped. "Well, Chuck is the least of your worries at the moment. The entire school is gossiping about you throwing a drink at your boyfriend like you were auditioning for an episode of Real Housewives."

Nodding in agreement, the girls looked at Serena expectantly.

"So maybe that wasn't my… finest moment," she allowed, looking slightly embarrassed. "But we talked last night and I think we're going to work things out."

"After what he said about you?" Iz asked, scandalized.

"And after all those girls?" Penelope shook her head in disapproval.

Serena opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"S, I understand you just want things to go back to the way they were," Blair took the opportunity to jump in. "But if you take him back without even making him work for it, he's going to think you're a total doormat."

"Dan would never think that," Serena protested.

"Well, you probably figured he'd never think you were a slut either, and look how that turned out." Blair arched her eyebrows, taking another sip of her coffee.

"He doesn't think that, it just… he didn't mean it," Serena floundered. Sensing that the seeds of doubt had been planted, Blair went in for the kill.

"Look S, I'm not saying that you shouldn't take him back. If that's what you want, I totally support your decision. But he lied to you about all those girls and then he tried to justify it by insulting you. If you let him get off with a slap on the wrist, he's going to think he can treat you however he wants and get away with it. You need to show him who's in charge here."

A flurry of nods accompanied Blair's monologue. Serena paused for a moment, not looking quite convinced.

"And how do I do that… exactly?" she asked uncertainly.

"By playing hard to get," Blair replied with authority. "Don't immediately return his calls or texts, be busy sometimes when he wants to hang out. I have a copy of "The Rules" you can borrow if you want."

"Blair." Serena rolled her eyes. "That's about how to get a boyfriend. Dan's already my boyfriend."

"If you'd ever read past chapter 1, you'd know it's as much about keeping a boyfriend as getting one, S." Blair countered. "And what's the point of having a boyfriend if he doesn't respect you? You need to remind Dan how lucky he is. And maybe make him squirm a little too, so he doesn't try to pull this crap ever again."

Serena looked around the circle of girls, seeing that they were all obviously in favor of this plan.

"Okay, well… I guess maybe he does deserve to squirm a little," she conceded, eliciting a satisfied smile from Blair.

"Exactly. You're Serena van der Woodsen- you don't chase after guys, they chase after you." Blair declared, and Serena grinned in response. "Alright, you're meeting him for lunch, right? I'll send you a couple of texts, and when he asks you who they're from, say 'oh, just a friend' in a kind of mysterious way."

"I don't know, Blair, that sounds sort of-" Serena hedged.

"Look, we just want to make sure he understands that you're a hot commodity," Blair cut in. "And that if he doesn't shape up and treat you better, there are plenty of guys who'd love the opportunity."

"Okay, well… I guess," Serena reluctantly agreed.

"Trust me. It'll just motivate him to work for your affection. You'll have him eating out of your hand in no time."

After a chorus of giggles, the conversation turned towards some unfortunate sophomore who'd apparently gained ten pounds over the summer.

Blair only half-listened as she sipped her coffee, her mind drifting back to the previous fall.

"_Who keeps texting you so much?" Nate asked, suddenly sounding more interested in her life than he had in months. _

"_Oh, just… Serena," she replied, snatching the phone out of his hand before he could see Chuck's last message- which said something about holding her La Perlas hostage until she returned to "finish what she'd started". _

_Nate furrowed his brow, clearly unconvinced. _

"_We're having a tea for Serena's grandmother, and my mom had to jet off to Paris at the last minute, so now it's all on me," she added in an exasperated tone, shoving her phone into her purse._

"_Do you want me to come by and help?" he offered._

"_No thanks, I've got it," she smiled dismissively, gathering the rest of her things._

"_Who are you and what have you done with Blair Waldorf?" he asked, looking surprised and somewhat fascinated by the change in her attitude._

_She paused for just a moment, assessing the fit of his gray tuxedo._

"_Looking good, Archibald. I almost forgot how handsome you are." Bestowing a brief smile on him, she turned to leave, feeling his eyes following her out the door. But she didn't have time to deal with Nate's cluelessness at the moment. She had a tea to plan… not to mention, an illicit rendezvous to resume. And given the way she'd left him hanging earlier, she had no doubt Chuck would be waiting, impatient and likely half-undressed, for her return._

Given the outcome of that situation, Blair wondered why she was so bad at taking her own advice. Five minutes after she'd blown him off, Nate had been positively enthralled by her again… so perhaps it was time to revisit that strategy. If she could make him chase after her, like he had when they'd first gotten back together, she knew everything between them would finally be perfect. And as an added bonus, it would rid her of this pesky fascination she seemed to have with Chuck.

"Hi girls!" Jenny's cheerful voice rang out. Blair's entire body stiffened as the leggy blonde took a seat next to Penelope, shoulder-length curls bouncing against her white blouse.

"Hey Jenny." Blair smiled aloofly. "What adorable shoes! Are they vintage?" _Because I can tell you bought them used_, she added with her eyes.

"Of course," Jenny's friendly response was equally insincere. "You know how much I love classic Dior pumps."

Everyone else continued chattering, oblivious to the tension between them.

"So Blair, I was thinking we could make the announcement about the Snowflake Ball? Since we'll have to start planning committee meetings right away," Jenny suggested, challenge in her eyes.

Blair gritted her teeth. Seriously, the morning of the first day of school? Why did Jenny have to ruin everything?

"Sure," she replied, plastering on her very best fake smile and clearing her throat. "Attention, everyone!"

The girls paused their conversation, looking up at her expectantly.

"I just wanted to let you all know that Jenny will be joining me as co-Chair of the Snowflake Ball committee," Blair announced, her calm, authoritative tone betraying nothing of the anger simmering inside of her.

"_Jenny_?" Penelope echoed in disbelief. Hazel and Iz looked similarly displeased at having been passed over in favor of a sophomore. Serena, on the other hand, just looked puzzled.

"I know she's only a sophomore, but I think it's important to pass our expertise on to the underclassmen," Blair's tone brokered no disagreement. "Plus, Jenny's very eager to contribute. We'll be starting committee meetings next week, so of course I expect you all to help out."

Heads bobbed in acknowledgment, no one daring to disagree with her. Several moments of awkward silence followed.

"So I hear we're going to Butter Thursday night?" Serena offered.

"Definitely." Penelope smiled in anticipation. "Kelsey said her brother's lacrosse friends from Dalton would all be there."

"Oh, I don't think I can make it, my dad doesn't like me going out on school nights…" Jenny's voice trailed off in embarrassment as the other girls threw disdainful glances her way.

"Well, that's a shame," Blair said dismissively. "I'm sure we can fill you in at lunch on Friday."

Jenny's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing in response, apparently recognizing that she'd pushed her luck enough for one day.

Out of the corner of her eye, Blair saw Nate and Dan walk through the front gate and stop to awkwardly acknowledge each other.

"Hey S, how about we head to homeroom?" she suggested innocently, grabbing her purse and coffee.

Having also spotted Dan and Nate, Serena looked confused- and then recognized Blair's raised eyebrows.

"Oh… um, sure." She grinned and stood up, linking her arm with Blair's as the two girls strolled towards the girls' hall.

Operation Play Hard to Get had officially begun.

* * *

><p>Dan checked his watch one more time, wondering if he'd gotten the time or location wrong. He'd just missed Serena in the courtyard that morning, so he hadn't had a chance to confirm their lunch plans. It wasn't like her to be this late to meet him - maybe she'd gotten held up in class?<p>

He was just taking out his phone to send her a text when he spotted them- she was leaving the girls' hall accompanied by a tall, sandy-haired guy who looked familiar- Quinn, maybe? He was a friend of Nate's and, unsurprisingly, had managed to go an entire semester of English Lit without contributing a single insightful comment.

He watched as they parted, Serena giving her companion a friendly hug goodbye. She saw Dan and waved cheerfully, hurrying in his direction.

"Sorry I'm late!" she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. "Quinn and I were just catching up and I totally lost track of time."

"No problem," Dan replied casually. He wondered how anyone could lose track of time talking to that simpleton, unless he'd bored her to sleep.

"So, what do you say to some sushi?" Serena grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the front gates.

Fifteen minutes later, they were enjoying spicy tuna rolls and miso soup at the counter of a nearby Japanese restaurant, while Serena chattered happily about her morning classes. He couldn't help smiling- partly at her infectious enthusiasm, but mostly because he was just so relieved things were okay again.

When he'd finally mustered up the courage to call her on Sunday, she'd been cool and reserved, suggesting that maybe they should both think things over and meet for dinner the next night.

In typical Dan Humphrey fashion, he'd spent the following twenty four hours tortured with self-doubt, thinking and planning and over-analyzing every aspect of the situation. He'd approached their dinner that evening with a sense of impending doom, convinced she was going to end their relationship. Of course, given how much time he'd had to prepare, the resulting apology should've been polished and thoughtful, full of convincing reasons why she should take him back. But predictably, it had come out as an awkward, rambling mess that eventually just petered out into uncomfortable silence.

Fortunately for him, Serena still seemed to find his awkwardness endearing, so she'd accepted his apology, saying she just wanted to start over and leave the past in the past. He'd even gotten an affectionate kiss at the end of the date- no tongue, but still, it was a step in the right direction.

Dragging his wandering thoughts back to the present, he heard Serena talking about her English syllabus.

"… and I'm really looking to reading _Tender is the Night_, I love Fitzgerald," she finished, nibbling on a piece of pickled ginger.

Dan raised his eyebrows in surprise at the un-Serena-like comment. "What else have you read by Fitzgerald?"

"Oh, we read _The Great Gatsby _my sophomore year. It was my favorite class at Nightly." she replied, distracted by the vibration of her cell phone.

"Well, I'm actually quite familiar with his work, so I'd be, uh, interested to hear your thoughts," he commented, watching as she typed out a text message.

"Mmm-hmm," Serena responded distractedly, chuckling under her breath at whatever she was reading. She closed the phone, glancing back up at him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Oh, just that I've read a lot a Fitzgerald myself, so if you need any help with the interpretation-" he was interrupted by another buzz. "Who keeps texting you?" he asked, trying not to sound annoyed. He'd just gotten back into her good graces, so he had to be on his best behavior.

"Oh, just… a friend," Serena replied, looking slightly uncomfortable- which was noteworthy, because Serena never looked uncomfortable.

He furrowed his brow, but just nodded in response.

They were both tucking into the last pieces of sushi when her phone buzzed again, and he gritted his teeth as she paused to check it. Dealing with frequent phone calls and texts was a necessary evil when dating Serena van der Woodsen, but usually she gave him her mostly-undivided attention. He couldn't imagine what could be so interesting about these particular messages.

"Hey Dan, I've actually got to run- I'm supposed to meet up with a friend before class," Serena grabbed her purse, tucking her phone inside. "You don't mind, right?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, and even though he most certainly did mind, he knew better than to say it. So he just smiled tightly as she brushed her lips across his and watched her stride out of the restaurant, her tousled blonde locks and shapely figure catching the eye of several male patrons along the way.

The texts had probably just been from Blair or one of her other friends, about something urgent like… shoes, or handbags, or curling irons, he thought to himself. It was silly to think it could've been Quinn, sending her flirty texts with his big beefy thumbs.

Dan shook his head hard, as if to rid it of the very thought. He knew Serena wasn't interested in anyone else- after all, she'd been practically celibate all summer. And since assuming otherwise had ended rather… badly for him, he certainly couldn't afford to be making any insinuations about her and other guys at the moment. It was probably just his imagination working overtime, he concluded.

* * *

><p>"How was dinner?"<p>

"Oh… it was good, I guess. I had the duck." Nate replied distractedly, fingers scrolling across the screen of his phone.

Chuck nodded, studying his friend out of the corner of his eye. "Celebrating anything in particular?"

Nate's fingers stilled, a disconcerted expression crossing his face. He initially looked like he was going to brush it off, but then appeared to reconsider. _And that, Nathaniel, is why you're a miserable poker player,_ Chuck thought to himself.

"Well… sort of, yeah," he admitted. "My family's been having some… financial problems, because of this whole situation with my dad. But it looks like everything's gonna be alright now."

"You never mentioned anything before," Chuck commented, feigning a look of surprise.

"Yeah, well… I guess I was just hoping it would all go away so I wouldn't have to tell anyone," Nate said with a wry smile. "And I definitely owed Blair a nice date, she's been so patient and understanding about everything."

_Patient? Blair?_ That seemed… doubtful, Chuck thought. More like… a patient and understanding façade, concealing a maelstrom of annoyance, insecurity, and frustration.

"Well, I'm glad things worked out. Sounds like everything's coming up Nate," he responded drolly.

Nate chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so."

The two were sitting in companionable silence when Blair breezed past them, greeting a group of acquaintances on the other side of the courtyard. Seemingly oblivious to the two boys, she chatted with several students, laughing gaily in response to one of them. Only the stiffness of her back and the tilt of her head made it obvious, to Chuck at least, that she was aware of their presence.

"Guess she didn't see us," Nate said, waving a little to catch his girlfriend's attention. He finally caught her eye and she smiled, excusing herself from the group.

"Hey!" she slid onto the stone bench next to Chuck. "What are you two up to?"

"Nothing, just finishing lunch," Nate replied, grinning affectionately. "I've barely seen you all day though."

"I know, I've just been super busy," Blair responded with an affected sigh. "You know how it is, first day back and everything."

As if on cue, her phone buzzed, and she picked it up to scroll through her text messages.

"Yeah, definitely," Nate agreed. "Hey, Chuck and I were thinking about grabbing drinks at the Palace tonight, if you want to come."

Blair paused her texting and smiled apologetically at him. "Oh, that's sweet of you, but I already have plans tonight."

"Plans? With who?" Nate asked, looking puzzled.

"Oh, just… some friends." Blair waved her hand dismissively.

He frowned in confusion, waiting for her to elaborate, but she returned her attention to her phone.

Chuck rolled his eyes at the obvious ploy- was Nate seriously going to fall for this? _Well… probably. _This was Nate, after all. He'd been so confused by the plot of _Memento_, Chuck had had to diagram it for him on the back of a cocktail napkin.

"A bunch of us are going to Butter tomorrow night though," Blair commented distractedly. "You guys should come."

"Yeah, sure… sounds fun," Nate agreed, a note of interest perking up his usual halfhearted agreement.

It was like watching someone train a puppy, Chuck thought to himself. Except the puppy had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"What about you, Chuck?" Blair's lilting voice roused him from his internal snark. Glancing over at her, he was met with a pair of big brown eyes gazing back at him, eyelashes fluttering innocently. "It wouldn't be a party without you there."

Chuck found himself at a sudden loss for words. She couldn't possibly be audacious enough to involve _him_ in her beyond-obvious attempt to make Nate jealous… could she?

She smiled teasingly at him, moistening her upper lip with just the tip of her tongue, and he felt the unmistakable stirring of his body in response.

_Apparently, she could._

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied laconically, struggling to maintain an air of bored disinterest.

"Wonderful." She rose from the table, smoothing her plaid skirt over her hips. Despite his best efforts, Chuck found himself following the movement with his eyes. "I have to get to class, I'll see you both later!"

And with that, she strode off towards the girls' hall, a confident sway to her walk.

Nate stared after her in confusion, most likely wondering about the absence of his usual goodbye kiss.

"Does Blair seem kind of… different to you?" he pondered aloud.

Chuck bit his lip in frustration. There was definitely not enough alcohol in his flask to get him through this conversation.

* * *

><p><em>There's a drumming noise inside my head<em>  
><em>That throws me to the ground<em>  
><em>I swear that you should hear it<em>  
><em>It makes such an all mighty sound<em>

* * *

><p>It was past fashionably late when Blair and Serena finally arrived at the club, their posse of minions in tow. The underground alcove was dimly lit in red and yellow hues, casting an otherworldly glow over the wood-paneled walls. The room was packed with the usual selection of beautiful people, but even among the A-list Thursday night crowd, the girls still drew attention as they descended the staircase. Serena's simple black cocktail dress was the perfect foil for her loose blonde waves, and the deep V in front showcased an almost scandalous amount of cleavage. Blair had chosen a strapless burgundy mini-dress, knowing that the sweetheart neckline showed off her delicate shoulders, the fitted bodice and flared skirt emphasizing her tiny waist.<p>

Spotting Nate and Chuck lounging by the bar, Blair decided they should take their time making their way over. So far, pretending to barely notice Nate had paid enormous dividends in only a matter of days- he'd seemed inordinately interested in her "plans" the night before, and being otherwise occupied at lunchtime and after school had led him request a slot in her busy social calendar. And apparently, being the one to end phone calls was some sort of secret code that programmed boys to call back.

It was a shame she hadn't figured this out years ago, but all she had to do now was keep it up… indefinitely. _Well, no one ever said relationships were easy, right? _Blair thought.

She suddenly realized that Serena had stopped in her tracks, looking visibly distressed.

"What's wrong, S?"

"I don't think the plan is working," she replied in a worried tone. "Dan's talking to another girl."

"What?" _Where did Dan find another girl willing to talk to him?_ Blair followed the direction of Serena's gaze to find Dan chatting with a mousy brunette on the other side of the room. It certainly wasn't anything inappropriate- at least, not _yet_- but he did seem rather engrossed in the conversation.

"Isn't that the new girl in our class?" Blair asked, realizing she looked familiar.

"Yeah." Serena sighed. "Amanda something. Apparently she's a writer too, she's in my English lit class."

The idea that Serena should feel threatened by this… nobody, with her limp hair and ill-fitting clothes, seemed ludicrous. But when it came to intellectual matters, Serena's self-esteem was on the low side- and probably with good reason, she thought. Dan chatting up this girl right in front of her was completely unacceptable, and he needed to be taught a lesson.

"Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. I'll just go over there and join them," Serena declared, turning to leave.

"Come on, S, that's what a jealous, insecure girlfriend would do," Blair protested, grabbing her arm."And you're not that girl… right?"

She could see Serena turning this question over in her head, and pressed her advantage. "If you react like that, you're giving him the upper hand."

"So… what do I do?" Serena asked uncertainly.

"You find a hot guy- which won't be a problem here." Blair gestured to the crowd around them. "And you do the exact same thing he's doing, only better."

Serena pursed her lips, considering her options. "Well… that blonde guy near the door is pretty cute…"

"So go get him." Blair laughed teasingly, and pushed Serena towards her victim.

Deciding she'd played it cool long enough, Blair sashayed over towards the bar. Greeting her with palpable enthusiasm, Nate immediately scampered off to order her a drink, not even waiting for her to pointedly nudge him.

Chuck, in contrast, avoided making eye contact with her- he just leaned against the bar, surveying the room over the rim of his martini glass.

He'd been doing a lot of that lately, she realized. They would pass each other in the courtyard or in front of school- and even though she was certain she could feel his eyes on her, whenever she looked over at him, his gaze was steadfastly aimed in another direction.

It was almost as if he was fighting his attraction to her, and occasionally he'd let his control slip when he thought she wasn't looking. The idea secretly thrilled her, although she would never admit it aloud. That Chuck would struggle to _not _want her, especially when he could have almost any other female in the vicinity- and probably already had- well, it was a little exhilarating.

"Hey Chuck," she greeted him in a throaty voice.

He turned towards her, his eyes reflexively raking over her figure and causing a shiver to run down her spine- it felt like he was undressing her with just a look. _Well, this is Chuck Bass_, she thought,_ looking at women is foreplay for him_.

"Hey," he responded impassively, his voice betraying none of what she'd seen in his eyes.

"Here you go, Blair." Nate returned to her side, presenting her with a gin martini. She felt an irresistible urge to reward him with a pat on the head, or a… biscuit.

"Thanks," she replied instead, smirking at the mental image.

"Is that a new dress?" he asked admiringly.

"Just a little something I picked up at Bergdorf's yesterday," she demurred, taking a tiny sip of her drink. She needed to take it slow, since she'd already had several glasses of champagne while getting ready with the girls. And there was certainly nothing "hard to get" about a sloppy drunk.

"Well, it's beautiful," Nate complimented her.

She smiled in acknowledgment, but noticed that Chuck had returned to studying the crowd, his trademark disaffected expression firmly in place. Overtaken by the urge to feel his eyes on her again, she cleared her throat.

"What do you think, Chuck?" she asked coyly.

There was nothing subtle about his once-over this time; his gaze travelled from the column of her neck down to her stiletto-clad feet and back again, visually caressing her curves. She swallowed, feeling her body respond to his open appreciation.

"Not bad, Waldorf," he finally replied, his voice as cool as ever. "Although you could afford to show a little more leg,"

"Well, I think this is as much of my girlfriend's legs as I want other guys to see," Nate joked, sliding an arm around her waist.

Chuck smiled humorlessly and looked away, his profile showing the tense line of his jaw. And all she could think at that moment was that he'd seen every inch of her legs… touched them, kissed them, wrapped them around his waist. Distracted by her wandering thoughts, Blair forgot about trying to pace herself and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp.

* * *

><p><em>As I move my feet towards your body<br>I can hear this beat it fills my head up  
>And gets louder and louder<br>It fills my head up and gets louder and louder_

* * *

><p>Several martinis later, she found herself briefly alone. Nate had stepped outside to take a phone call, and Chuck had excused himself- presumably to sleaze all over some trampy bar hag, she thought scornfully.<p>

Looking back towards the bar, her eyes fell on Serena, who was still deep in conversation with the tall, brawny, lacrosse-player type she'd approached earlier. But conversation wasn't exactly the right word for it, Blair decided, as she watched Serena giggle and stroke the front of his shirt with one hand, and her companion gaze appreciatively at her… or more accurately, the neckline of her dress. What had begun as a conversation seemed to be veering rapidly into desperate hussy territory.

Glancing around the crowd, she saw that Dan was mercifully nowhere in sight, so she strode over towards the pair. Along the way, she reminded herself to have a talk with Serena later about the difference between subtle flirting and throwing yourself at someone.

"Hey S," she greeted Serena, acknowledging her companion with only a judgmental sniff. "How about we go grab a drink?"

She didn't wait for a reply, latching on to her friend's forearm and pulling her towards the bar.

"B, what are you doing?" Serena complained, stumbling slightly in her stilettos.

"I think we're done with the flirting portion of the plan," Blair replied, rolling her eyes at her tipsy friend. "And perhaps we need to review the concept of boundaries."

"But I was having fun," Serena complained.

_Yeah, that's what happens when you talk to guys who aren't Dan_, Blair thought to herself. "Well, we'll just do… something else fun then."

"Like dance?" Serena's face lit up, as she looked eagerly towards the packed dance floor.

"Uh…" Blair tried to think of a good excuse, but her slightly inebriated brain wasn't working fast enough.

"Come on, B, loosen up! We can give the guys a little show," Serena teased, waggling her eyebrows. Glancing around and not seeing anyone she knew in the vicinity, Blair conceded with a reluctant smile.

Serena grabbed her by the hand and pulled her onto the dance floor, finding an open space near the edge that was just big enough for the two of them. Generally, dancing with Serena involved plenty of ass shaking and hair flipping, while Blair preferred to be not quite so… showy. But she found herself feeling less inhibited than usual that evening, so she mimicked her friend's movements, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and swinging her hips. She laughed when Serena twirled her, the two dancing intimately together as they moved their bodies to the music.

Serena leaned in against her, placing her lips suggestively close to Blair's ear. "I think we have a fan club," she whispered with a giggle.

Glancing around nonchalantly, Blair could see that their performance had attracted a fair number of male admirers. She'd just allowed herself a triumphant little smile when her eyes suddenly met Chuck's intense, unwavering gaze. His posture was relaxed as he leaned against the bar, indifferently swirling the drink in his hand, but his deep brown eyes were fixed intently on her- and there was no mistaking the blatant desire she saw reflected back.

He glimpsed a little smile play across her features before she turned back towards Serena, continuing to move her body to the music. He watched her hips sway languorously, making the silky red dress slide across her backside, and his body hardened in response. He could almost feel the fabric against his fingertips, her hips moving against his own, the taste of her skin when he kissed that spot right below her ear.

She gathered her glossy brown curls up with one hand, stroking down the side of her neck with the other- and he watched, mesmerized, as her fingers paused, tapping seductively against her bare shoulder. But it was her coy glance back over that shoulder, and the sensuality evident in those deep brown eyes, that finally set him off. He watched in helpless fascination as her teeth sank teasingly into her lower lip, feeling frustration and longing swell up inside of him. Throwing back the last of his scotch, he didn't even feel the liquor burn its way down his throat.

"Hey B, I'm gonna go get another drink!" Serena's voice snapped Blair out of her reverie, and she turned back to see the blonde waving an empty martini glass before disappearing into the crowd. She took a deep breath, running her hands across her flushed cheeks, and realized that perhaps she'd had more to drink than she'd thought.

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her- someone inappropriately close. Before she could spin around and banish the stranger with a withering glare, she felt a familiar pair of hands encircle her waist.

"Never took you for a cocktease, Waldorf," Chuck whispered huskily against her ear, his warm breath causing a flush of arousal to spread across her skin. She tried to pull away, but his hands held her firmly in place, fingers stroking gently across her hipbones.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blair attempted to sound indignant, but the words came out in a breathy whisper that was barely audible over the thumping bass.

"Dancing, of course," he murmured, his mouth almost touching her skin. "You make it look so… appealing."

_Chuck Bass doesn't dance_, she thought faintly- but then again, this could hardly be considered "dancing." She felt his body press into her back, his hand intertwine with hers and slide it against her silk-covered thigh.

As they moved their hips to the music, he maneuvered her into the throng of dancing couples, towards the center of the dimly lit dance floor. Realizing that no one could see them unless they were standing two feet away, she allowed herself a brief moment of weakness and relaxed in his arms, enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

She felt his fingers trace delicately across her collarbone, leaving a seductive tingle in their wake, while his other hand pulled her hips firmly against him. The unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressed into her backside, evoking a warm throbbing sensation deep within her.

As her body rubbed sensuously against him and her silky curls brushed his cheek, the intoxicating scent filling his nostrils, Chuck struggled to stay in control of himself. He watched, captivated, as a bead of perspiration slid slowly down the side of her neck- and finally, able to resist no longer, he captured it with his tongue.

When he felt her shudder against him, he began kissing his way down her neck, savoring every inch of her skin. At any moment, he was expecting her to regain control of herself and push him away- but instead, she arched her neck to give him better access and gripped his fingers harder, tightly pressing his hand to her leg. He continued to kiss down her neck and across to her shoulder, nibbling on the spot where her fingers had danced so teasingly.

Feeling her velvety skin on his tongue, her taut thighs under his hands, and her hips bucking back against him, he quickly grew so aroused that he no longer cared about anyone or anything except pleasuring her.

He reached down and stroked the inside of her thigh with his free hand, caressing the satiny skin just under the hemline of her billowy skirt. Feeling her tense up, he moved his mouth up her neck, lightly sucking on her earlobe before sinking his teeth into it. Her body once again quivered beneath his ministrations, and he used the opportunity to slide his hand further underneath her dress, stroking the tips of his fingers against the lacy edge of her thong.

_Wait, this is wrong_, her alarmed brain tried to interrupt.

"Chuck, stop," she whispered.

But there was no way he could hear her over the pounding beat of the music- and she wasn't sure she wanted him to. Rotating club lights distorted into a blur of color, and the cover of darkness tempted her to sink further into the depths of illicit desire. _Just one more minute_, she thought hazily, as his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her thong and began exploring her slick folds.

Caught between his hardness pressing into her backside and his skillful fingers stroking her clit, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against Chuck's shoulder, surrendering to the exquisite pleasure he was giving her.

"You like that?" he murmured into her ear, and she could only whimper in response, her lower body moving rhythmically against his hand. He slipped two fingers into her, thrusting in and out, while his thumb gently circled her swollen nub. Overwhelmed with lust, she was aware of nothing but him- his mouth on her skin, his hips rocking intimately into her, his fingers bringing her closer and closer to the release she so desperately craved.

"_Blair?" _

Serena's stunned voice hit her like a splash of cold water. She opened her eyes to see her friend standing just a few feet away, a fresh drink in her hand and a horrified expression on her face.

She wrenched herself away from Chuck, running her fingers through her hair and trying to look composed- or as composed as possible, given the circumstances. But she could see the shock and dismay written all over Serena's face, and, unable to face the accusation in her friend's eyes, she turned and fled.

* * *

><p><em>Louder than sirens<br>Louder than bells  
>Sweeter than heaven<br>And hotter than hell_

* * *

><p>Blair was already halfway down the block, four-inch heels not slowing her down in the slightest, before Serena finally caught up with her.<p>

"Blair!" Panting with exertion, Serena grabbed her arm and brought her to a stop.

"What?" she responded defensively, pulling away and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"What the hell was that?" Serena exclaimed.

"It was nothing. We were dancing, that's all," Blair said firmly, looking anywhere but her friend's eyes.

"_That_ was not dancing! That was having sex with clothes on!" Serena countered.

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you?" Blair shot back, not about to take an extra-large serving of judgment from Serena, of all people.

Serena's jaw tightened, but she refused to take the bait.

"What were you _thinking_, B?" She shook her head. "Did you really think the best way to make Nate jealous was to get it on with his best friend?"

"Why not? It certainly worked when he did it," Blair responded sharply, noting Serena's look of shame with satisfaction.

"This isn't about that, Blair." Serena paused, a distressed expression on her face. "Is this… why you haven't told Nate yet? Is there something going on between you and Chuck?"

"What? No!" Blair was appalled at the very suggestion. "I told you, it's nothing. I was just… trying to make Nate jealous and it got… a little out of hand."

"Letting Chuck Bass fondle you in the middle of a public place is more than a little out of hand!" Serena retorted, starting to sound exasperated.

Blair felt a wave of humiliation at her own behavior, which was quickly replaced by indignation. _Who the hell does she think she is?_

"Well, I'm sorry I distracted you from throwing yourself at random guys," she snapped. "Or were you planning to get back at Dan for calling you a slut by _acting like one_?"

Serena's face hardened.

"You know what? Fine. You obviously don't need my help. Good luck figuring this out on your own," she declared, before turning and striding back towards the club.

"Fine," Blair echoed.

Watching Serena leave, she hugged herself tightly and swallowed back the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Many apologies for the long hiatus! I blame vacation, laziness, and the intimidation of writing such an overwhelmingly awesome couple. Hopefully I made up for it?

As always, thanks to Terrabeth for her beta work, particularly her assistance in liberating my inner smut enthusiast. Also, big thanks to Spiros for making a lovely banner for this story, which you can find in my profile.

So, it appears that the shit's starting to hit the fan here. Thoughts?


	10. Vaporize

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**Chapter 10: Vaporize**

_What amounts to a dream anymore?  
>A crude device; a veil on our eyes<br>A simple plan we'd be different from the rest  
>And never resign to a typical life<em>

_-Broken Bells_

Awakened by a throbbing headache, Chuck blinked and rubbed a hand across his eyes, taking a minute to properly orient himself. The bed was surrounded by glass and chrome furnishings, abstract artwork decorated the walls, and the only indication that anyone actually lived here was his school blazer flung over a leather armchair. He still wasn't accustomed to his new room at the penthouse, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been quite this hungover. And on a school day no less, he thought, squinting at his alarm clock. What the hell had he been thinking?

And in that instant, a flood of hazy memories began to rush back- going to the club with Nate, watching Blair dance, kissing her neck, touching her… _fuck_. He groaned and shook his head hard, as if to expel the memories from his mind. But they only grew more vivid, until he could practically feel her body against his, smell the alluring hint of jasmine on her skin, feel her tremble as he stroked her thigh… and despite the guilt and remorse he _should_ have been feeling, all his disobedient brain could focus on was how she'd responded to him.

That is, until Serena had interrupted- at which point she'd high-tailed it out of there so fast, she'd practically left a Blair-shaped hole in the wall. Chuck had watched in a daze as Serena chased after her, feeling suddenly unsettled by the scene they'd caused- not to mention, embarrassingly aroused. He'd retreated to the bar to… unwind, and make some sense of what had just happened. But of course, as luck would have it, his best friend chose that moment to track him down and initiate a bonding moment.

"_Hey, Chuck," he heard Nate's voice behind him._

_He automatically tensed, preparing himself for a blow. When none seemed forthcoming, he turned, seeing only an anxious and preoccupied expression on his friend's face. _

"_Nathaniel," he responded in what he hoped was a blasé tone, gesturing towards the bartender for another drink._

"_What've you been up to? You disappeared for awhile," Nate asked, leaning against the bar next to him._

"_Oh, just…" - fingerbanging your girlfriend, that's all- "making the rounds," he finished._

"'_Test-driving the merchandise', right?" Nate asked wryly, referring to Chuck's usual approach to flirting._

"_Something like that," Chuck responded with a forced smirk. He could feel his stomach twisting into an guilty knot, and it was taking all his effort to behave like nothing was wrong. _

"_Hey, do you want to get out of here? Maybe head back to the Palace or something?" Nate suggested, glancing distractedly around the club._

"_Oh, I… actually I already had some… plans, for later," Chuck tried to put as much lewd insinuation into his voice as possible, although all he really wanted to do was get the hell away from Nate._

_His friend sighed, running a hand through his bangs. "Yeah, okay… I just… really need to talk to someone right now. And I can't find Blair anywhere."_

_Identifying the unfamiliar feeling coursing through his veins as shame, Chuck found himself unable to look Nate in the eye. He cleared his suddenly-constricted throat and tried to school his features into an expression of idle curiosity. "Why, what's up?"_

"_I just got some bad news from my mom," Nate replied, his usually relaxed countenance tense with worry. "I don't think these investigators are going to back off until my dad turns himself in… we can't just wait them out. And my grandfather won't help because he thinks we know more than we're telling them…." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable. _

_Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, frowning at what he saw on the screen. "And Blair's not answering my calls or texts. Have you seen her anywhere?"_

_Oh, I saw her all right, Chuck thought to himself, feeling the churning sensation in his stomach intensify as he considered how easily they could've been discovered. In fact, it was entirely possible that someone besides Serena had seen them, and it might be only a matter of minutes before the whole thing ended up on Gossip Girl. _

"_I… don't know where she is," he answered, finally coming up with something that wasn't a lie. "But… if you want some company, I can… cancel my other plans." _

_Chuck figured at this point, he kind of owed him one. _

"_That'd be great, man," Nate sounded eager to hang out with him, which only made him feel worse. Why, after seventeen years, had his conscience suddenly decided to make an appearance?_

_Fucking conscience._

"_No problem." He shrugged._

"_So what'd you say we go back to your place and get hammered?" Nate suggested with a wry grin._

_Well, that was a plan he could actually get on board with- drinking himself stupid did seem like a promising solution to his current predicament. And as an added bonus, if Nate found out what had happened and punched him in the face, it would help cushion the blow. _

_He downed the remainder of his drink, pushing the empty glass across the bar._

"_Sounds good. Let's get out of here."_

They'd retired to Chuck's suite at the Palace- he no longer lived there, but kept it as a venue for his less family-friendly activities- and polished off a bottle of Dalmore 40 together. Chuck had mostly stayed silent while Nate vented about his problems, from his grandfather turning his back on their family, to his mother's ongoing refusal to accept the seriousness of their situation, to Blair acting "weird" and possibly losing interest in him. Since that particular topic of conversation made him a bit… edgy, Chuck had started knocking back the scotch in earnest, so his recollections of the rest of the evening were decidedly fuzzy. He remembered insisting on getting home because they had school the next day, dropping off a completely shitfaced Nate on his front door step- oh, Anne must have loved that- and someone, most likely Eric, giving him some helpful directions towards his own bedroom.

So now here he was, lying in bed fully-clothed, with a pounding headache and an acrid taste in his mouth like something had crawled in there and died.

And though he'd managed to temporarily forget about his dilemma, with the assistance of alcohol-induced unconsciousness, it had now returned with a vengeance. Nate might not be particularly astute, but he would eventually notice if Chuck continued to grope his girlfriend in public.

Lying back, he folded his hands beneath his head and stared at the ceiling, deliberating his options.

Plan A was forgetting about Blair, pretending nothing had happened, and moving on with his life. He considered this possibility, before involuntarily recalling the way she'd felt in his arms- her taut body moving rhythmically against his own, her head rolling back against his shoulder in surrender… his fingers finding her wet and ready for him.

Shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tightening in his groin, Chuck concluded that he'd already tried Plan A, and failed miserably at it. Now that relocating to another country was no longer an option, and relying on his self-control obviously wasn't a viable alternative, attempting to stay away from Blair was officially a lost cause.

This left Plan B, going after what he wanted and pursuing her- which would, of course, require separating her from Nate. He understood, probably better than anyone, how much of their relationship was built on convenience and habit. Nate had sabotaged it already on several occasions, and if he ever thought he had a chance in hell with Serena, he'd do it again in a heartbeat. The wild-card in this situation was Blair- but after last night, he was pretty sure she could be convinced. He just had to get her alone, see where her head was at… and possibly employ some persuasive tactics, if necessary.

Dragging his aching body out of bed, he surveyed his rumpled attire and bloodshot eyes in the mirror with a groan. _First step, rehydration_, he thought to himself, opening his bedroom door to head for the kitchen.

Of course, fate having a sense of humor, as soon as he stepped out into the hallway he immediately came face-to-face with his blonde stepsister, who was leaving her own room. She looked slightly under the weather herself, and none too pleased to see him.

"Chuck," she greeted him frostily, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Serena," he responded mockingly.

"Rough night?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Something like that," he replied.

Pursing her lips, she shook her head in disgust. "That was low, Chuck, even for you. I know you don't give a shit about anybody else, but I always thought you at least cared about Nate."

His nostrils flared as he regarded her with narrowed eyes.

"Don't push it, Serena," he responded coolly, a note of warning in his voice.

As far as he was concerned, the list of people who had a right to be pissed at him began and ended with Nate. It certainly didn't include _Serena_, who'd spent the night before drunkenly throwing herself at some random frat boy while her sad boyfriend moped on the sidelines.

"You do realize you were in _public_, right? That anyone could've seen you? What if Nate had been the one to find you instead of me?" she continued, her voice rising in volume with each question.

"You know, hypocrisy isn't a flattering look on you, _sis_," Chuck replied scornfully. "It's not like I was fucking her on a bar stool."

The fact that he probably would have, given the opportunity, he dismissed as irrelevant.

Her cheeks coloring pink, Serena had just opened her mouth to respond when Bart strode around the corner, taking in the disheveled teenagers with steely blue eyes.

"Charles, a word please." His curt tone clearly indicated that it was an order, not a request.

Casting one last contemptuous glance towards Serena, Chuck turned to follow his father, feeling a growing sense of unease as he made his way up the stairs.

His apprehension only grew stronger as Bart took a seat behind the desk, lacing his fingers together and regarding his son with a mixture of disappointment and aggravation. Chuck stood staring down at the floor and feeling every bit like a chastened little boy- even though he had no idea what he'd done to warrant a lecture. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his wrinkled trousers, he found himself wishing he'd at least changed his clothes and combed his hair.

"Well, it appears you've wasted no time returning to your old… socializing habits," Bart commented tersely, giving him a brief once-over.

"I was just… hanging out with Nate. Nothing too scandalous." He attempted a wry smile, which faded the second it encountered his father's stern gaze.

"Regardless," Bart continued, his tone indicating that he either didn't believe him or didn't care, "if you're going to live in this house, I expect you to behave appropriately. Your reputation already precedes you, and stumbling home drunk in the middle of the night isn't going to endear you to the rest of this family."

The implication being, obviously, that he was the outsider in Bart's happy little family unit- although that was hardly news. But the unfairness of being singled out for a lecture over Serena made him grind his teeth together.

Forcing himself to nod in response, Chuck assumed he was now dismissed and turned to leave.

"Charles," Bart's sharp voice halted him. "I actually have a more serious issue to discuss with you than your… debauchery."

Turning back, he met his father's gaze with uncertainty.

"It's come to my attention that several hundred thousand dollars was withdrawn from your trust fund last week. I assume you were responsible for this?"

Tensing in surprise, Chuck swallowed. "Yes."

"Well, since I haven't noticed a new Ferrari parked outside," Bart paused, spearing him with a cold glare, "care to explain what you spent it on?"

Chuck's breath caught in his throat.

"I… " he searched for an explanation, any explanation, that he could give without betraying the discretion he'd promised. "I'm not at liberty to say, but… I give you my word that it was something… very worthwhile."

"Your _word_?" Bart echoed mockingly, as if this were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "You blew over two hundred thousand dollars in one weekend, and I'm supposed to take your _word_ that it went towards something besides gambling debts and prostitutes?"

Chuck stood in silence, feeling the full weight of his father's condemnation and disappointment bearing down on him, until finally he couldn't stand it any longer.

"I thought that money was mine to use as… I see fit," he stated, with more bravado than he actually felt.

Bart stared back at him for a moment, an expression of almost amused disdain on his face.

"Perhaps if you'd demonstrated more sound judgment, that might be the case," he allowed. "But from this point forward, your spending habits are going to be more closely monitored. That money is yours to use at my discretion, and if you continue to be this irresponsible with it, I'll have no qualms about restricting your access entirely. Is that understood?"

Chuck swallowed hard, trying to dispel the sudden tightening in his chest.

"Yes, father," he responded.

"Good. Now go get yourself cleaned up, I can't imagine St. Jude's wants you showing up smelling like the floor of a bar." Bart waved his hand dismissively, already distracted by a pile of contracts on his desk.

Chuck retreated down the stairs, anxious to escape the conversation as quickly as possible. He saw Lily, Serena and Eric look up from the breakfast table, but, overwhelmed by frustration and a humiliating stinging sensation behind his eyes, he walked past without a word and slammed the door to his bedroom behind him.

* * *

><p>Blair checked her watch once more- exactly four minutes until the final bell- and quickened her stride, heels clicking sharply against the sidewalk as she approached the school gates. The courtyard was nearly deserted, with only a few remaining students hurrying up the steps towards homeroom. Just as she'd planned, her timing conveniently prevented an awkward run in with either of the two people she was currently avoiding- Chuck, for obvious reasons, and Serena, for being a judgmental bitch.<p>

And to think of all the times she'd held Serena's hair back while she barfed, after doing God knows what with God knows whom. Now, after one little mistake, one tiny lapse in judgment, her best friend was going morality police on her? And it's not like she'd even really _done_ anything, Blair thought indignantly- Chuck was one who'd gotten all handsy.

She felt herself flush as she remembered exactly where his hands had been, and how close they'd come to actually- well, no need to dwell on that. Point being, she was definitely avoiding Chuck today. And tomorrow. And probably for the rest of the year.

She stepped through the wrought iron gates, so immersed in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice the stealthy approach of a sleek black limo until it pulled up right beside her. Cursing her bad luck, she strode purposefully through the courtyard, pretending not to hear the slam of a car door only a few feet away.

"Blair," Chuck called after her in a hushed tone, his low, husky voice causing a shiver to run down her spine. She continued as if she hadn't heard him, starting up the stairs with single-minded purpose.

"_Blair_," he repeated, this time with a note of exasperation.

"Sorry, running late," she tossed back over her shoulder- just to avoid the suspicion of anyone listening. Truth be told, she wouldn't have stopped even if she'd had all the time in the world.

When she finally reached the heavy oak doors, still feeling his eyes on her, she allowed herself just a brief glance backwards. He remained standing by the gate below, staring after her with a barely-repressed intensity that nearly took her breath away. Feeling her cheeks start to burn and her stomach somersault against her rib cage, she mentally chastised herself for such an excessive reaction. Averting her eyes, she yanked the door open with far more force than necessary and headed towards class.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Blair sat on the Met steps, safely surrounded by her posse of minions. She slowly stirred a spoon through her cup of yogurt- clockwise, then counterclockwise, then across and back- watching it move in a creamy spiral and trying to remember if she'd actually eaten any of it.<p>

All morning, she'd been so distracted by the litany of unwelcome thoughts and feelings- as well as her increasingly disobedient libido- that she was thankful none of her teachers had called on her. Paying attention in class had felt like an insurmountable task.

"And he sent _this_, like, half an hour after we left the club," Hazel gushed, proudly displaying a text message for the rest of the girls to read.

"Oh wow, he wants to know where we're going tonight?" Iz remarked, passing the phone on to Penelope. "You must've really left an impression."

"I know, right? I think he really likes me," Hazel confided, smiling excitedly."He told me he felt like he could talk to me for _hours_."

Blair sighed, barely concealing her disdain. Hazel would find out soon enough that 30-year-old investment bankers had only one reason for texting high school girls, and their conversational skills had little to do with it.

"Hey guys." Serena greeted them in a subdued tone, dropping her Louis Vuitton bag onto the steps and taking a seat next to it.

Blair carefully avoided making eye contact, but it was obvious that Serena's typically sunny disposition was missing some of its vivacity. _Probably just a hangover_, she thought scornfully. Dorota had tended to hers, of course, with an assortment of iced beverages, pain relievers, and a soothing eye mask to prevent puffing.

"Hey Serena!" a chorus of voices chirped back, and she gave them a wan smile before pulling out her phone. Whatever she saw evidently displeased her, since she sighed unhappily in response.

"Hey, have any of you seen Dan?" she asked suddenly, glancing up.

The girls shook their heads and looked towards Jenny, who shrugged indifferently. Truthfully, if any of them had, it was doubtful they would've noticed him anyway.

"He hasn't returned any of my calls or texts," Serena said dejectedly, staring at her phone as if she were willing it to ring.

"We, uh, thought you and Dan broke up," Hazel offered hesitantly. "Since you were all over that guy last night."

"He was _really_ cute," Iz added, smiling encouragingly.

Serena's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she sent an apologetic look in Jenny's direction.

"Oh, we were just talking, it was nothing like that. I was just having some fun," Serena defended herself.

Blair couldn't resist shooting Serena a little "I told you so" smirk, and her friend's eyes narrowed in response. "Of course, I didn't have nearly as much fun as Blair did," she added, her sugary tone laced with acid.

Blair's smirk faded immediately, as everyone's curious eyes turned to rest upon her.

"Oh, I was just dancing and… this guy tried to hit on me," she explained, rolling her eyes with an affected sigh.

"Ooh, who was it? One of the guys from Goldman Sachs?" Penelope leaned in, her interest piqued.

"Yeah Blair, who was it?" Serena echoed, with a disingenuous smile.

Blair gritted her teeth. "Nobody important," she replied coolly, sending a warning look in Serena's direction.

Fortunately, her phone buzzed at that very moment, forestalling any further questions. She retrieved it from her bag and read the text message.

**We need to talk. **

She stared at those four little words for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. Quickly typing out a message, she hit 'send' and snapped the phone shut.

**No we don't.**

Not ten seconds later, she felt it vibrate in her hand again.

**Yes we do.** **Meet me after school?**

Clenching her teeth in annoyance, she typed out a quick reply, almost stabbing at the keys with her fingertips.

**No, we really really don't. **

With that, she closed the phone and turned it off, tossing it back into her bag and resolving to forget the matter entirely.

Feeling a set of eyes on her, she looked up to see Jenny regarding her with undisguised interest, a calculating expression on her face.

* * *

><p><em>Common fears start to multiply<em>_  
><em>_We realize we're paralyzed__  
><em>_Where'd it go,__ a__ll that precious time?__  
><em>_Did we even try to stem the tide?_

* * *

><p>Thankfully the rest of the day proceeded without incident, since Blair managed to avoid everyone who was currently attempting to ruin her life. After returning home from school, she took a long, relaxing bubble bath- almost succeeding in taking her mind off the events of the previous evening- before pulling on a silky lavender slip and sheer dressing gown, leaving her hair loosely pinned on top of her head.<p>

Pursing her lips, she perused the selection of dresses laid out on the bed, trying to decide which of them was just right for her planned dinner date with Nate. She selected a white Moschino with an abstract gray floral pattern- the trumpet-shaped skirt and large bow across the bodice gave it an elegant, romantic air, while the strapless bodice still showed plenty of skin. Setting aside a pair of contrasting pink Louboutins, Blair settled into the cushioned chair in front of her vanity and began applying her makeup.

She'd just finished the first layer when she heard a sharp knock at the door. Frowning in confusion, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table- Nate wasn't supposed to arrive for another fifteen minutes.

"Come in," she called out, carefully coating her lips with a layer of pink gloss.

She stopped abruptly when she saw Chuck's reflection in the vanity mirror. He leaned against the door frame in a deceptively relaxed stance, dressed casually in a pale pink button-down shirt and charcoal trousers, his tousled hair just long enough to curl up behind his ears. And his eyes were following the movement of her hand against her lips, tracing over the outline of her mouth with obvious interest. Blair dropped the applicator wand with a clatter, mentally steeling herself for the confrontation to come.

"I'm sorry, was there some part of 'no, I don't want to talk to you' that you were unclear about?" she asked coolly.

"Well, I'm sure you can understand my confusion. You have been sending rather… mixed signals lately," he responded, levering himself away from the door frame and sauntering into her room, his eyes fixed on her reflection.

Rising quickly to her feet, Blair turned to face him.

"Any 'signals' you're getting besides 'leave me alone' are nothing but the product of your own twisted fantasies, Chuck," she snapped.

His proximity made her acutely aware of how little she was wearing, and she crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at him.

This turned out to be a mistake, since it pulled his gaze downwards, skimming over the exposed curve of her breasts. She resisted the urge to tie her robe more tightly around herself, knowing that the sheer, gauzy fabric did little to conceal her body from his view.

"Look Waldorf," he sighed. "I get that denial is your MO, but let's not waste time pretending that what happened last night was some figment of my imagination."

Chuck took several paces towards her, and she instinctively backed up, attempting to put as much space between them as possible. She certainly didn't trust him to behave- at this point, she wasn't sure she even trusted herself.

"What happened last night was a mistake, and one I don't plan on repeating," she stated firmly, feeling her back press against the bathroom door. He edged even closer, until only a few feet separated them.

"A mistake you can't seem to stop yourself from repeating," he corrected her, a knowing smile crossing his face. He raised his hand to rest on the door frame next to her cheek, propping himself against his arm- and cutting off her escape route.

"I thought you wanted to talk," she prevaricated, her heart pounding erratically against her ribs.

"Well, you don't seem interested in talking, so…" Chuck mused, lifting his free hand to her face and running his fingers over a stray curl, gently tucking it behind her ear. She felt her skin flush as the back of his knuckles brushed against her cheek, trailing down the side of her neck.

"That's because there's nothing to talk about," she declared, staring stubbornly at the wall over his shoulder. She could feel herself responding to the close proximity of his body, his warm breath against her face, the tempting curve of his lip only inches from her own.

"Then I suppose we'll have to find something else to do," Chuck murmured, his darkening eyes staring intently at her mouth. In spite of the alarm bells echoing through her head, she felt frozen in place.

Until Chuck leaned forward and kissed her.

Inhaling sharply in surprise, she jerked her head back and pressed her open palms into his chest, pushing him backwards. But he grasped the nape of her neck and pulled her back into the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers with increased urgency. With a gentle nibble, he parted her lips, his tongue sliding in to stroke sensuously against her own. Her eyes drifted shut, almost of their own volition, as she savored the taste of his mouth and the feel of his firm, velvety lips. She felt enveloped by his body, her senses overwhelmed by warmth of his hands, the raspy sound of his breathing, the heady aroma of his skin.

In unison, they opened their mouths wider, deepening the kiss. He groaned in approval as her tongue eagerly caressed his, reaching up to cup her jaw in his palm. Blair felt her body arch mindlessly into him, her hands fisting into the material of his shirt to pull him even more tightly against her.

Encouraged by her ardent response, he slid his hands down to fondle her breasts through the thin layer of silk, cradling them firmly in his palms. Her nipples tightened into stiff buds beneath his fingers, and the resulting flood of warmth between her thighs caused her to shudder against him. She slid her hands over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling her fingers impatiently into his hair.

Chuck's mouth left hers and she sighed at the loss of contact, feeling his lips move down her jaw to plant lingering, open-mouthed kisses onto her neck. One of his hands slid underneath the hem of her negligee, skimming over the soft skin of her thighs to cup her bare ass.

Blair moaned as he rocked his hips intimately into hers. Letting her head sway back until it lightly touched upon the door, she opened her eyes for just a moment… and caught a glimpse of their reflection in her bedroom mirror.

She saw herself draped against Chuck in little more than her underwear- her cheeks flushed, lips parted wantonly, hands clutching his body tightly against her.

A jolt of dismay ripped through her.

_Oh my God_, she thought, _what am I doing?_

Panicking, she shoved him back so hard he stumbled slightly, catching himself on the side of her vanity.

"Blair-" he began, his expression confused… and still slightly glazed over with arousal.

"You need to leave," she ordered in a wavering voice, "_now_."

He reached for her again and she smacked his hand away, startling them both.

"I mean it Chuck, get _out_," she snapped.

He stared back at her, still breathing heavily, his shirt half-unbuttoned and hair tousled wildly– from her desperate pulling on it, she realized with a surge of humiliation.

"Come on, Blair," he said persuasively, a hint of frustration in his voice, "You want this just as much as I do."

She had to say something, anything, to get him out of there. Nate was on his way over- he could even have walked in five minutes ago, she realized with a sudden stab of horror. She took a deep breath, stiffening in resolve.

"Look, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," she sighed, assuming the most world-weary tone she could muster. "But while your persistence is certainly… flattering, it's starting to get a little embarrassing."

His eyes narrowed at her as he considered her words.

"You're lying," he decided, edging closer towards her.

Using all of her willpower to avoid trembling, Blair rolled her eyes. "I don't know what it's going to take to convince you that I'm not interested, Chuck," she replied haughtily.

"Well, you could start by not twitching your ass at me every time I turn around," he retorted. "Don't think you can just use me as part of some desperate ploy to get Nate's attention."

She swallowed, realizing he'd seen right through her plan all along.

"Well, since my 'desperate ploy' worked, and Nate's on his way over right now, I think we're done here," she said dismissively.

His hand tightened around her wrist, making her breath catch in her throat.

"A boyfriend who's only interested when you trick him into it? I figured you had more self-respect than that, Waldorf." Chuck's voice assumed a harder edge.

"So says the guy who's currently throwing himself at me," she countered, only the hint of a tremor betraying the conviction in her voice. "For the last time, Chuck, I'm not interested in getting molested by you again, so just leave me alone."

She shook off his grip and his hand fell away from her, his eyes clouded over with anger.

"I don't remember you complaining when I had my fingers in your-"

"That's _enough_," she snapped, interrupting his vulgar comeback. "God, you're _disgusting_."

His mouth twisted in a grim smile. "Don't kid yourself, Blair. You were practically begging for it," he replied crudely. "It's not my fault your boyfriend obviously isn't keeping you satisfied."

"My boyfriend and I were _perfectly fine_ until you came back," she shot back, with the fiercest glare she could muster.

"Oh, so _my_ presence is to blame for your lackluster façade of a relationship?" he snorted, shaking his head mockingly.

"Well gee, Chuck- you've betrayed your best friend without even a second thought, you've repeatedly harassed me, and even the people you live with can't stand you. So yes, I think it's safe to say we were all better off with you on another continent." She glared defiantly at him, bracing herself for another round of insults.

But Chuck remained silent, his jaw clenching as he stared back at her with fathomless eyes.

"Well, not to worry, _princess_," he finally replied, his voice brimming with disdain. "Consider yourself left alone."

And with that, he turned and strode out of the room, his shoulders taut with anger. Blair stared after him, pulling her robe tightly around herself as a cold shiver ran through her body… accompanied by a hollow sensation that felt oddly like disappointment.

* * *

><p><em>Why should we waste it on<em>_  
><em>_Buying into the same old lies?__  
><em>_The longer we wait around__  
><em>_The faster the years go by_

_It's not too late__  
><em>_To feel a little more alive__  
><em>_Make an escape__  
><em>_Before we start to vaporize_

* * *

><p>Blair prodded listlessly at her pan-roasted squab breast, dragging one perfectly-medium rare slice around the plate with her fork. A glistening pile of buttered baby carrots sat untouched by its side, and the accompanying maple-balsamic glaze had been swirled into neat rings with the edge of her spoon.<p>

"How's your food?" Nate inquired, apparently not noticing that she had yet to take a single bite.

"Oh, it's delicious," she smiled brightly. "Yours?"

"Awesome," he responded, tucking into the remainder of his veal chop with enthusiasm.

She nodded, returning her attention to her plate. She really should eat something, she supposed, but the mere thought was making her nauseous. She compromised on a bite of salad, stabbing a single leaf of romaine with her fork and munching on it disinterestedly.

"So where'd you get off to last night?" Nate asked curiously. "You just disappeared all of a sudden."

A guilty knot formed at the back of her throat, which she attempted to wash down with a gulp of wine.

"Oh, I wasn't feeling well, so I decided to head home early," she improvised, wrinkling her nose in feigned distaste at her supposed illness.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hope you're feeling better." Nate accepted her explanation at face value, just like he always did. She studied his expression, looking for any indication of doubt or suspicion, but he just smiled back at her guilelessly.

"What about you, how was the rest of your night?" she asked, staring into the ruby depths of her pinot noir.

"Oh, Chuck and I went back to the Palace and, uh, got pretty hammered." He grinned sheepishly. "Man, you should've seen my mom's face when I got home, I was in rough shape."

Blair smiled tightly in response, trying not to visibly react to the mention of his best friend.

"Anyway, we just sat and talked about… all sorts of stuff. It was nice to just hang out like we used to, you know?" Nate mused. "I really missed having him around."

"Me too," she agreed without thinking, her heart catching in her throat when she realized how much she meant it. Suddenly she found herself picturing Chuck's face- his stoic expression when she told him they were all happier without him around, the brief flash of hurt in his eyes before he'd taken refuge in anger.

She'd probably succeeded in getting him to leave her alone- lashing out with the most hurtful insults she could think of seemed to be an effective strategy- but instead of feeling relieved, she just felt… sad, and confused, and guilty.

"Blair?" Nate's voice stirred her from her reverie. God, she couldn't even manage to feel guilty about what she was supposed to, she thought to herself. She really needed to pull herself together.

"Sorry, what?" She smiled apologetically.

"Oh, I was just saying how pretty you look in that dress," he repeated, casting an approving glance over the outfit she'd spent so long selecting.

"You're so sweet," she demurred, modestly lowering her eyes.

But instead of the familiar tingle of happiness that usually accompanied a compliment from Nate, his words left her feeling oddly empty. His look was admiring, not amorous, she thought. Appreciative, but not passionate. He didn't look like he was fantasizing about ripping the dress off her, or imagining what she might be wearing underneath. And he wasn't staring at her with a single-minded intensity that took her breath away.

Because Nate was a perfect gentleman, which was exactly what she'd always wanted.

They were the epitome of a fairytale romance, childhood sweethearts who were destined to spend their lives together. The perfect Upper East Side couple.

Glancing up from her still-untouched plate of food, she gazed at the boy sitting across the table from her, examining him as objectively as possible. She studied his chiseled features, bright blue eyes, and broad shoulders. He was handsome and charming, but surprisingly humble, radiating a boyish sweetness that was nearly irresistible. Nearly every girl she knew would _die_ for a chance to date Nate Archibald, and with good reason. He wore his old money pedigree with ease, but remained remarkably unaffected by it. And above all, he was inherently kind-hearted, always seeing the best in everyone, and remarkably loyal to those he loved.

He really was the perfect guy, Blair mused, smiling wistfully. But she was starting to realize, with a mixture of surprise and sadness, that she was no longer sure he was the perfect guy for her.

* * *

><p><em>Doubtless<br>We've been through this  
>So if you want to follow me you should know<br>I was lost then  
>And I am lost now<br>And I doubt I'll ever know which way to go_

* * *

><p>Chuck returned home that evening intoxicated, but not quite drunk enough to incur his father's wrath- or make him actually feel much better, as it turned out. The searing anger and resentment had turned back into more of a dull, bitter ache… which he still hadn't gotten used to, despite having been afflicted with it for the better part of six months. It was a sort of raw emptiness, a persistent hollow sensation that felt remarkably like loss. Although he couldn't imagine why, considering that he'd never had anything to lose to begin with.<p>

At least during his brief affair with Blair the previous year, he hadn't _technically_ done anything wrong- she and Nate weren't together, and though he hadn't been completely… truthful, he hadn't crossed any moral boundaries. His actions over the last twenty-four hours, on the other hand, were pretty much inexcusable by any definition. And despite that, out of all the unpleasant emotions he was currently experiencing, guilt was still not the most prominent.

Maybe Blair was right, he thought, maybe they'd all be better off without him around. He evidently lacked any sort of moral compass, and was just fucking up the lives of everyone around him as a result.

Thankfully, it appeared he had the penthouse to himself, so his brooding would go unnoticed. Swiping a bottle of scotch from the bar, he carried it to his room along with his bag of… entertainment for the evening.

He'd just reached his bedroom door when he heard a voice call out from across the hall.

"Eric?"

The plaintive cry was followed by several audible sniffles.

"No, it's Chuck," he replied dismissively, reaching for his doorknob. Hearing what sounded like more sniffles, he paused.

"Are you alright?" he called back, praying for her to say yes.

"Yes," Serena replied mournfully, finishing with a choked sob and a hiccup.

Cursing under his breath, he rapped on the door and slowly opened it.

Serena was sitting cross-legged in the center of her bed, surrounded by wadded up tissues and what appeared to be the contents of a twelve-year-old girl's memento box: letters and pictures and dried flowers and paper snowflakes. Her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks were partially obscured by a curtain of tangled blonde hair, and she still wore a wrinkled school uniform.

Crying girls were really not Chuck's area of expertise, so he stood uncomfortably in the doorway, trying to think of something consoling to say. But before he could come up with anything, Serena launched back into another round of sobbing.

"Dan just… broke up with me," she whimpered, beginning to weep into a fresh tissue.

Considering her little display the night before, Chuck didn't have to ask why- although he was surprised Humphrey actually had the stones to do anything about it. He sat down on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain for something girls liked to hear after getting dumped.

"Well, if it's any consolation… you can do a lot better," he offered.

That, unfortunately, only made her sob harder.

"And God knows he can't, so…" Chuck trailed off, wondering whether he should pat her on the back or something- her crying was interspersed with sharp little gasps, like she kept forgetting to breathe.

_Jesus Christ, is this what Blair had to put up with for the entire summer?_ Apparently breaking up with Dan turned Serena into a weepy, pathetic mess.

"You're really better off without him," he tried again. "Think of it like… having a 150-pound tumor removed."

This effort earned him only a tearful glare, before Serena replanted her face in her soggy tissue.

What the hell, he was trying to help her out here, he thought.

"Well… I have some really good weed," he suggested, out of other ideas.

At this, Serena's crying slowed and then paused, ending in a sad little hiccup as she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her blouse.

"Well…" she sniffed. "Maybe that might help."

Relieved to be doing something at which he was decidedly more expert, Chuck retrieved his bag of pot and set about rolling a joint. Under the guise of needing more space, he convinced her to stow away her sad little collection of sentimental crap- in reality, it was partly so she would stop blubbering all over it, but mostly because he couldn't stomach sitting in a pile of teddy bears and snowflakes and some bedraggled old band t-shirt that smelled like cheap cologne.

Laying out a rolling paper, Chuck pinched apart several small clusters of weed and arranged them in a green line down the center, deftly rolling it into a tight cylinder.

"So what did Bart want to talk to you about this morning?" she asked curiously. "He seemed pretty pissed."

"Just the usual… " Chuck replied dismissively, licking the seam of the paper to secure the joint. Reaching into his pocket for his lighter, he gave the end a twist and then fired it up. "Disappointing and embarrassing him, that sort of thing." He took a long, slow drag before passing it over to Serena.

"I don't get why he's so hard on you all the time," she mused, taking a drag herself- and immediately bursting into a loud cough.

"Years of experience, I suppose," he responded in an indifferent tone, watching her with a hint of amusement.

Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing in response, studying him out of the corner of her eyes.

"So what's Chuck Bass doing home on a Friday night? No big plans?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Decided to spend some time alone with my thoughts," he replied dryly, plucking the joint from her outstretched fingers and taking another drag.

"And by thoughts, I assume you mean porn," Serena raised her eyebrows at the brown paper bag on the bed next to them.

He shrugged, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. To be fair, the vast majority of his thoughts did belong in that category.

"The selection at Marquee was subpar. Nobody really worth the effort," he commented, passing the joint back to her.

"As opposed to last night, you mean?" Serena inhaled more carefully this time, plainly trying to avoid another coughing fit.

Chuck bristled in anticipation of another lecture.

"That actually took remarkably little effort," he countered flippantly.

But when he looked over at her, expecting a scathing retort, Serena's expression was more thoughtful than critical.

"So." She paused, giving him a shrewd look. "How long have you had feelings for Blair?"

Chuck scoffed in response, ignoring the tightening sensation in his chest.

"I don't have _feelings _for anyone," he responded sardonically, retrieving his joint and taking another puff. "Don't project your Humphrey melodrama all over me."

"Because I was thinking," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "why would Bart lie to everyone about the reason you left?"

Chuck shrugged.

"Because he's an asshole?" he offered indifferently.

"Or…" Serena took the joint he held out towards her, studying him for a moment. "Because you actually did want to leave after Blair blew you off. You've only been back two weeks, and you've already made a pass at her again."

Summarized aloud, it sounded even more pitiful than it did inside his head.

"Maybe I just wanted a piece of ass," he suggested, schooling his features into an expression of disinterest.

"You know, as degenerate as you may be," she paused to roll her eyes and take another puff, "I know you care about your friendship with Nate, so…" She breathed a ring of smoke through pursed lips, looking pensive for a moment. "I can't imagine you risking that unless… it's not just physical?"

Chuck stiffened, casting a sideways glance towards the safety of his own room.

"This isn't a group therapy session, van der Woodsen," he answered abruptly, plucking the joint away from her and taking another drag. "Stick to your own problems."

"So you admit you have a problem," Serena raised her eyebrows at him, undeterred.

"I admit nothing," he exhaled sharply in frustration. "My only problem is that you're being an enormous pain in my ass right now."

His stepsister smiled wryly, regarding him with a sympathetic gaze- which just frustrated him further, because sympathy was the last thing he wanted. Clearly the weed was making her a bit… sentimental.

Moistening the tips of his fingers in his mouth, Chuck pinched the end of the joint, which expired with a tiny hiss, and perched it in the branches of a little porcelain tree that rested on Serena's bedstand.

"Have you told her?" Serena asked quietly.

Embarrassment and self-consciousness were overtaken by an odd sense of relief, as Chuck realized this was probably the first honest conversation he'd had with anyone in months.

"I… it doesn't matter." he paused and exhaled slowly. "She doesn't want anything to do with me."

Serena nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, she doesn't want anything to do with me either right now," she said, smiling sadly.

Well, that at least explained why he was stuck dealing with this mess, Chuck thought.

"Wow, you get… really good stuff," she commented, leaning back in bed and clasping a pillow to her chest dreamily.

"Yeah, it's Nate's favorite," he responded idly.

Serena contemplated the ceiling for a moment, lost in thought.

"I don't think Blair is really happy with Nate," she admitted softly, as if voicing aloud something she'd been keeping to herself for a long time. "And I wanted her to be, because… I thought it would be my fault if she wasn't…" she trailed off as she turned her gaze down to the duvet, picking at it absentmindedly.

Chuck digested this revelation in silence, realizing that Serena might be more astute than he'd ever given her credit for. Perhaps, like Blair, she thought she could simply wish things away if she ignored them long enough.

The whole situation would be funny if it weren't so sad.

"Of course, I can't really weigh in on their relationship because, well…" she gestured with her hands, indicating that the reason was obvious. Chuck paused in consideration, realizing that neither of them really had a leg to stand on with regards to Blair and Nate.

"It's not like she wants to hear it from me either," he observed dryly.

"Well… hopefully one of them will figure it out eventually," she sighed.

"I can guarantee you it won't be Nate. Figuring things out isn't really his forte," he commented, and Serena snorted in laughter.

The pair sat in companionable silence for awhile, lost in their own thoughts. Feeling pleasantly mellow, Chuck glanced over at Serena, wondering what she was thinking about.

"You know what I could really go for right now?" she said suddenly, putting her hand on his thigh and staring at him intently.

Chuck tensed, staring back at her with confusion. _Shit, is she coming on to me?_ he thought, feeling more alarmed by the prospect than he would've expected.

"_Cheetos_," Serena declared with a wide smile. "I love how cheesy and orange they are. Cheetos are my favorite."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he chuckled in response. Apparently a year of relatively clean living had really done a number on Serena's tolerance.

"I'll go see what I can find," he responded with amusement.

After a few minutes of rummaging around the kitchen, he returned with a large bag of Cheez Puffs, which were sufficiently orange to placate Serena… who then proceeded to demolish half the bag. In between overstuffed mouthfuls, she rambled on about redecorating her room, how super psyched she was for Fashion Week, and an English assignment she seemed oddly enthusiastic about.

Chuck was only half-listening to most of it, to be honest, but it was kind of… pleasant to just hang out with someone who didn't seem to hate him. And whose presence didn't twist his insides up into a raging ball of hormones, guilt, or both.

Trying to yawn as inconspicuously as possible, he stretched back against the pillows. Despite his efforts to keep a somewhat attentive expression on his face, he soon felt his eyelids begin to droop, and eventually he relaxed and gave in to the irresistible pull of sleep.

It was several hours later when Chuck finally awoke, wincing as he stretched out his cramped limbs. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glancing over at Serena and chuckling when he saw that she'd passed out with her mouth half open, Cheez Puff in hand. Mascara stains still tracked down her cheeks, and her white duvet and school blouse were dusted with bright orange crumbs.

He couldn't resist snapping a quick picture with his phone, commemorating their first sibling bonding moment- and providing potential blackmail material, should it ever prove necessary.

Pulling himself off the bed, he left the room and quietly shut the door behind him, still smirking at the image of his drooling stepsister covered in remnants of her junk food binge. He paused a moment to adjust his rumpled shirt and tuck it back into his pants, too sleepy and distracted to notice a pair of horrified eyes observing him from the end of the hallway.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Oh dear... it looks like someone may have gotten the wrong impression. (Just to reassure those of you who are understandably nervous about this issue, Chuck and Serena will never hook up in this story.)

Anyway, big thanks to Terrabeth, for whom the word "beta" is simply insufficient. Without her assistance, I fear my characters would be completely inept at sex, drugs, and conjunctions.

As for the rest of you, this chapter was a beast and a half to finish, so please hit the happy review button and tell me what you thought! :)


	11. Bizarre Love Triangle

.

**Chapter 11: Bizarre Love Triangle**

_Every time I think of you__  
><em>_I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue__  
><em>_It's no problem of mine__  
><em>_But it's a problem I find__  
><em>_Living a life that I can't leave behind_

_-New Order_

Autumn was always spectacular in NYC- the sun shone, the air was crisp with just a hint of chill, and the changing leaves turned Central Park into a breathtaking collage of color. But this year, summer simply refused to die. Even though it was early September, the city was besieged by an unexpected heat wave. The scorching temperatures, sweltering humidity, and heat radiating off every concrete surface were enough to drive most savvy New Yorkers out to their summer homes, or into the air-conditioned safety of their apartments.

Of course, this wasn't an option for anyone unfortunate enough to live in a vintage loft apartment in Brooklyn, with limited insulation and an overly-frugal father.

Jenny pushed a blonde strand of hair off of her damp forehead, glaring out the window at the relentless sun before returning to her sewing. _How was she supposed to work like this?_ she fumed silently. She felt like a factory worker in a sweatshop. She had to dry her hands off every five minutes so she wouldn't leave fingerprints on the blue silk- even wholesale, it had cost over twenty dollars a yard.

Snipping off some dangling threads, she slide the half-finished garment onto its dress form and compared it to the teal blue Valentino adorning the adjacent form, tags still attached. They were almost indistinguishable, she thought, eyes darting back and forth between the two dresses. Just a few more tweaks to the shoulder straps, and she would have her perfect designer gown for the Snowflake ball.

She just had to get the original back to Bendel's, before it showed up on her father's Visa bill and gave him an aneurysm.

Hearing the jingle of her cell phone, she sighed in annoyance, grabbing the pins out of her mouth before answering.

"Hello?" she said distractedly, tucking a fold of fabric with her other hand and pinning it in place.

"Hey Jen," Eric's voice rang out across the line. "What's, uh… what's up?"

"Not much, just doing some… shopping," she replied, stepping back to analyze her handiwork. "You?"

"Well, I'm, uh… kind of freaking out a little…" He faltered over the words, and Jenny's ears perked up. Eric was usually pretty even-keeled, so anything that had him in a tizzy was bound to be interesting.

"Why, what's going on?" She kept her voice nonchalant, to avoid betraying too much eagerness.

"Well, I was hoping you could tell me, actually..." He paused for a second. "Umm, do you know what's going on with Dan and Serena?"

Jenny furrowed her brow in confusion.

Gossip Girl had sent out a picture of Serena, teary-eyed and clearly upset, leaving her dinner with Dan the night before. Jenny's first reaction had been an exasperated huff, as she wondered to herself why her brother couldn't seem to stop fucking things up.

"No, I haven't talked to him today," she replied. "But he was in a terrible mood last night, and I figured they'd broken up when I saw that blast."

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of…" Eric sighed. "I was hoping maybe I was just… overreacting."

_Ooh, this sounds like dirt on Serena_, Jenny thought, grinning.

"Overreacting to what?" she asked, keeping her tone unconcerned.

"Last night, I saw… I saw Chuck come out of Serena's room in the middle of the night. And he was… putting his clothes back on. And… grinning, like he just…" Eric trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

Jenny's eyes widened.

"Serena… and Chuck?" she sputtered.

"Well, I mean, I didn't actually see anything happen, so maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions…" Eric quickly backtracked.

"Right, I'm sure Chuck Bass spends a lot of time half-dressed in girls' rooms and _not_ having sex with them," Jenny scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Eric exhaled unhappily. "Okay, can you not mock the fact that my… siblings might be…"

"Banging each other?" Jenny supplied helpfully.

"Please don't say that," he groaned.

"Aww, are you feeling left out of the family bonding?" she teased, and heard a gagging noise.

"Seriously, Jen, I'm going to throw up in my own mouth," Eric responded, sounding appalled. "I just have to… pretend I didn't see anything, and hope it never happens again."

"I'd recommend knocking before you go into her room from now on, just in case," she giggled, eliciting another groan from the other end of the line.

"You know, joking about it doesn't actually make it funny," he replied dryly. "Just forget I said anything, alright?"

Jenny agreed, and the two chatted awhile longer before saying their goodbyes. Turning on her fan, she relaxed on the bed for a moment while contemplating this unexpected turn of events.

She was surprised, but it was hardly uncharacteristic behavior from Chuck. And based on rumors she'd heard about Serena's pre-Dan days, well… it really wasn't hard to believe at all. Assuming a calculating expression, she pondered how to use this information to her advantage.

Despite having the misfortune of being from Brooklyn, Jenny Humphrey had schemed her way up the ranks of the Constance social order. By threatening to release a gossip bomb about the school's queen dallying with its most infamous womanizer, she had earned herself the title of Snowflake Ball committee co-chair, an unheard-of honor for a sophomore.

And up until this point, keeping Blair and Chuck's affair to herself had been the best strategic move. She was savvy enough to understand that dethroning Blair would result in Serena regaining the title, not her.

But now, with this new piece of gossip, she had sufficient ammunition to take down _both_ girls. Becoming another notch on Chuck Bass' bedpost was embarrassing in and of itself- the boy was probably _riddled_ with herpes, she thought disgustedly- but sexing up your own stepbrother was just social suicide.

The Snowflake ball, she decided, would be the perfect occasion to drop both bombs at once. As committee co-chair, it would be natural for her to take charge after Blair and Serena's humiliation- thus becoming the new Queen of Constance Billard.

With her endgame finally in sight, Jenny traced one hand down the silky blue folds of her gown, smiling triumphantly to herself.

* * *

><p>When he turned the page and realized he couldn't remember anything on the previous one, Dan finally gave up trying to read. He tossed his book onto the bed with a sigh, swiping in annoyance at the sweat collecting on his forehead.<p>

Picking up his phone from the nightstand, he scrolled down the list of contacts until he reached Serena's name. His thumb hovered over it for a moment before he exhaled in frustration and set the phone back on the table.

He'd told Serena that they just needed a little time apart, time to work on themselves and their friendship. He'd explained that it was the only way to build a stronger foundation for their relationship and move past the trust issues that kept tripping them up.

He'd been certain it was the right decision.

But that certainly didn't make it any easier to see Serena looking so heartbroken. She hadn't even stayed to finish dinner-she'd just bolted as soon as soon as they'd finished their conversation. The fact that he hadn't actually heard her thoughts on this plan had already been weighing heavily on his mind. And then he'd seen that picture of her on Gossip Girl, looking on the verge of tears…

He was so tempted to just forget about all of this and go after her. Tell her he'd made a mistake.

_Maybe I should just call her, _he thought_. Maybe we don't need to be apart to figure things out…_

Feeling conflicted, and unable to tolerate the oppressive heat of his bedroom any longer, Dan headed for the kitchen.

"Hey Jen," he murmured absentmindedly, walking past his blonde sister sitting at the kitchen table. He could feel her eyes on him as he rooted around in the freezer. "What's up?"

"Not much," she replied carefully, watching him select an orange popsicle and take a seat across the table. "What's up with you?"

Dan sighed, propping his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand.

"Oh, just… second-guessing my decisions, thinking in circles, torturing myself with doubt… you know, the usual," he responded wryly.

"Serena?" Jenny guessed, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Noticing that his sister's expression was borderline sympathetic, Dan wondered if he'd been too hard on her recently. Maybe she hadn't actually become a soulless Blair Waldorf clone, maybe she'd just… had PMS. For the past four months.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking that I might've been a little… hasty last night," he confessed.

"Hasty?" Jenny echoed, eying him skeptically.

"Yeah, I told her that we needed some time apart. But maybe I… overreacted a little, you know?" he continued, munching on his frozen treat. "I was just upset about what happened at Butter, and I didn't even give her a chance to… apologize, or explain."

"Well, of course you were upset, it sounds like she was practically making out with that guy." Jenny shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what there is to explain. She can't expect you to just put up with her ho-ing around with random dudes."

Dan paused mid-chomp, frowning at his sister in confusion. "Two weeks ago, you were telling me I was an idiot for breaking up with her in the first place."

"Well, that was before," she replied noncommittally.

"And last week, all you were concerned about was how my relationship with Serena affected your social life," he persisted, eying her with curiosity.

Jenny shrugged again, appearing suddenly fascinated by her own fingernails. "Maybe I've decided my brother's happiness and well being are more important," she suggested evasively.

Pondering the unlikelihood of that scenario, Dan regarded her skeptically.

"What's really going on here, Jen?" he asked, a hint of suspicion coloring his voice. She avoided his gaze, but he stared her down until she had no choice but to meet it.

"_Nothing_," Jenny finally snapped. "Maybe I'm just tired of listening to you constantly whine about your relationship melodrama. Or maybe, the fact that you guys can't stop breaking up for like five minutes is some sort of sign from God that you should let it stick this time."

Dan frowned, bristling slightly at her outburst.

"I know we've had some problems recently," he admitted. "But… we still love each other, and we're both miserable when we're apart, so… we just need to talk things out, that's all." He stood, pushing back his stool. "Thanks for the pep talk, though," he added wryly.

"Look, Dan, I just…" she paused, a conflicted expression on her face. "I don't think you should go running back to Serena, okay? I just- I think it's a really bad idea," she finished earnestly.

"Then tell me _why_," Dan responded, exasperation creeping into his voice. He was really starting to lose patience with his sister's mood swings.

Jenny said nothing, biting her lip and staring down at the table. Sighing in frustration, Dan shoved his stool back under the counter and walked away, heading back towards his bedroom.

"Serena slept with someone else," Jenny blurted out behind him.

The words took a second to sink in, but once they did, he stopped in his tracks. "What?" he asked in disbelief, hoping he'd misheard her.

"I just… don't want you to embarrass yourself running after her when she's already having sex with some other guy," Jenny let out in a rush. "Probably the first guy she saw after your dinner last night," she added, a note of censure in her voice.

Dan was already shaking his head before she'd even finished talking.

"You're wrong," he stated with conviction. "Serena wouldn't do that. I'm sure it's just a stupid rumor."

"It's not a rumor, Dan," she argued. "Eric _saw_ them. He wouldn't lie about this."

Feeling like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him, Dan slumped back onto one of the kitchen stools and stared vacantly into space, trying to arrange his fragmented thoughts into some semblance of order. _She'd been upset when she left dinner. Maybe she'd stopped off at a bar on the way home, had a few drinks, some guy had taken advantage of her… or maybe she'd called Quinn, asked him to come over… _

He rubbed his hand across his face, trying to stop his mind from going any further in that direction.

"Come on, Dan, why you so surprised?" Jenny shook her head. "You know what she's like. What did you expect to happen when you guys broke up?"

"We didn't break up," he replied faintly.

"You didn't…" she trailed off, staring back at him. "Wait, what?"

"I said, _we_ _didn't break up_," Dan repeated with emphasis.

"But then…" Jenny paused, furrowing her brow. "Uh, why have you been moping around, wallowing in self-pity and weeping over your sad emo kid playlist?"

Sympathy really wasn't one of his sister's finer qualities, he thought to himself.

"We're just taking a break, that's all," he replied.

A beat of silence followed.

"And how is that different from a breakup, exactly?" Jenny asked skeptically.

"Well, we're not, like… done for good. We're just taking some time apart to… work on our issues and, you know… figure things out."

This whole explanation had sounded a lot more reasonable and coherent inside his head, he realized. But his reason and coherence had taken a leave of absence… around the same time he found out his girlfriend was having sex with another guy.

"Yeah, that sounds like a breakup to me," Jenny observed, pursing her lips.

Dan sighed in frustration. "Well, it's not. It's just… taking a break."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a thing, Dan," she replied dryly. He glared at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Did Serena _agree_ to this arrangement?" she went on.

"Well, I guess… I mean, she didn't really say much," Dan admitted, staring down at the table. "She just said okay, if that's what I wanted it was fine with her, and she left pretty soon afterwards."

"But she definitely understood that you weren't actually breaking up with her?" Jenny pressed.

"Of course she did," Dan replied immediately. "I mean… well, yeah, I think so," he finished, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Oh my God, Dan, you're an _idiot_," Jenny groaned, facepalming herself.

Ignoring the niggling suspicion that she could be right, Dan felt himself grow increasingly defensive. "I'm sorry, and exactly how many relationships have you had in your life? Remind me again why I should be taking romantic advice from you?" he asked snidely.

"Well, given that you just accidentally broke up with your girlfriend, you clearly need all the advice you can get," she replied, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

"I didn't…" he exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Did I?"

"Yup." Jenny nodded, her mouth twisting into a wry grin. "Which apparently pushed her straight into the arms of her creepy pervert stepbrother. Well done, Dan-"

She stopped speaking abruptly, eyes widening.

"_What_?" he said, incredulous. "Jenny… what the hell are you talking about?"

Jenny shifted uncomfortably under his stare. "It was Chuck," she admitted quietly, refusing to look him in the eyes.

Dan let out a humorless laugh. "You cannot be serious," he scoffed. "Serena can't stand Chuck!"

"Well, maybe she doesn't have to… stand a guy, to have sex with him?" Jenny offered.

"No. That's just not possible," Dan insisted. "There must be some mistake..."

"There's no mistake, Dan. Eric seemed pretty traumatized by the whole thing, actually…" Jenny trailed off, eyeing him condolingly.

Ten seconds ago, Dan could've sworn there was no way for this situation to get any worse. But not only had Serena slept with another guy a few hours after they'd "broken up", she'd picked the one guy he probably loathed more than anybody else on the planet.

He couldn't even decide whether to be hurt or angry- although he was most definitely starting to feel nauseous, thanks to the graphic mental pictures his imagination was providing.

"Ugh, of all the guys she could've…" Dan groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Look, just… please don't tell anyone about this, okay?" Jenny implored him. "Serena would… never forgive me."

Shit, she thought, if Dan blabbed this all over the place, her whole plan would fall apart. She gave him her best innocent-little-sister look, trying to look as regretful as possible.

Nodding distractedly, Dan ran a hand through his hair, struggling to wrap his mind around this new information. Why would Serena sleep with Chuck? Revenge? Boredom? Or… maybe it was just something she used to do all the time, back in the day, back when she slept with… well, pretty much anyone, so… no big deal, right?

Maybe he'd been fooling himself all along, thinking she'd changed.

All of the dirty comments, the lecherous looks, everything he'd dismissed as Chuck just being a pervert and an asshole, he was now starting to view in a totally different light.

"I just… I can't believe this," he sighed, a sense of resignation beginning to set in.

"Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news." Jenny remarked glibly.

Groaning incredulously, Dan slumped forward, burying his face in his hands.

* * *

><p><em>I feel fine and I feel good<em>_  
><em>_I'm feeling like I never should__  
><em>_Whenever I get this way__  
><em>_I just don't know what to say__  
><em>_Why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday_

* * *

><p>Blair strode towards school Monday morning with her head held high, the heels of her Mary Janes clacking smartly against the pavement. She felt imbued with a renewed sense of confidence and purpose. After the emotional shitstorm that had been her Friday night, she'd decided that she needed a weekend by herself to relax- and possibly make some minor adjustments to her life plan. Thankfully, a spa retreat to the Adirondacks had proved the perfect solution, allowing her to escape the pressures of her exhausting social calendar, her current romantic… situation, as well as the misery of a NYC heat wave. Being surrounded by hordes of grumpy tourists, perspiring in their cutoff jean shorts and tacky athletic jerseys, was not Blair Waldorf's idea of a pleasant weekend.<p>

So after several massages, a facial, and a seaweed mud wrap that had given her skin that perfect dewy glow, she'd finally felt clearheaded enough to formulate a plan of attack. The question of her relationship with Nate had been… well, shelved, for the time being, because she didn't want to do anything hasty, and such an important decision required careful consideration.

But the other two items on her agenda could be addressed immediately. A ceasefire with Serena was her top priority. Based on that weepy Gossip Girl picture, she assumed that Serena's on-again/off-again romance with Humphrey was now off again, so she was probably inconsolable. And being the forgiving person that she was, Blair was willing to let bygones be bygones and provide her best friend with a shoulder to cry on.

Item number two on her list was to resolve the Chuck situation, preferably by reinstituting their friendship truce. She did regret some of her more… derogatory comments from the other night. She simply needed to figure out some way to indicate this to him- without resorting to an actual apology.

Once those two problems were taken care of, and her life was firmly back on track, she could begin to address the biggest question pertaining to her future- namely, whether she was willing to give up the possibility of becoming Mrs. Nate Archibald.

Nodding resolutely to herself, she stepped into the school courtyard with confidence, bestowing smiles on a few worthy classmates along the way.

Halfway towards her group of minions, she happened to notice Dan Humphrey- an unusual enough occurrence, but made even more so because he was actually talking to a girl.

More than talking, in fact, Blair realized- that was _flirting_. Awkward, nerdy, sweaty-palmed flirting. And it had to be intentional, because Dan certainly didn't possess the natural charisma to do it by accident. _Who the hell does he think he is_? she thought, her eyes narrowing in indignation. Was he was going to rub Serena's face in the fact that he was moving on at the first available opportunity? Did he really think he could get away with that?

Well, not on her watch.

Blair marched towards the pair, curls bouncing off her petite shoulders.

"Humphrey, a word?" she requested coolly, not sparing a glance for his companion. She phrased it as a request, but the sharply manicured nails digging into his forearm clearly indicated otherwise.

Dan stumbled slightly as she dragged him behind her strode across the courtyard. Finally letting go, she turned to face him, staring him down with a mixture of anger and exasperation.

"What the hell, Blair?" he grumbled, rubbing his arm with a pained expression.

"Look, _Dan_," she replied tersely. "I don't pretend to understand what Serena sees in you. And I can't, for the life of me, understand why she continues going back for second and third helpings of whatever it is you're dishing out."

Dan looked mildly offended at that, and opened his mouth to respond before she cut him off.

"Don't look so surprised, this can't possibly be news to you," she continued, eying him with derision. "Point being, she is my best friend, and if you think I'm just going to let you flirt with another girl right in front of her, you are _sorely_ mistaken."

"I wasn't-" he began to protest, but she waved his words aside as if they were of no consequence.

"Don't act disingenuous, Humphrey, I'm better at it than you are," Blair folded her arms across her chest. "You're moving on and trying to rub her face in it, and there's simply no way I'm going to allow that to happen."

"_I'm_ moving on?" Dan echoed incredulously. "Are you _serious_?"

Blair paused momentarily, but chose to ignore his outburst.

"Well, for whatever reason, Serena has remained completely loyal to you for over a year now," she sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. "So until I can manage to break her of that… regretful habit, consider school property off-limits for your sad attempts at womanizing. Are we clear?"

Confident her point had been made, she nodded with self-satisfaction and turned to leave.

"What, so Serena can have sex with Chuck, but I'm not allowed to even _talk_ to another girl?" Dan retorted in frustration.

Blair took several additional steps before his words sunk in. She stopped in her tracks, and then turned back to face him.

"What?" she asked incredulously, before quickly regaining her wits. "I don't know what you're talking about, Humphrey. Serena's never… slept with Chuck."

Dan snorted, a hint of cynical amusement in his expression.

"I guess your best friend doesn't tell you everything," he responded sardonically. "I can certainly understand why she might be embarrassed. It's not exactly something to brag about- you know that better than anyone."

Blair swallowed, trying to control the churning sensation in her stomach.

"You're wrong," she stated with conviction. "He- she wouldn't do that." Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was mostly trying to convince herself.

"Well, according to Eric that's how they spent their Friday night," Dan replied, bitterness dripping from his voice. "I guess the adjacent bedrooms were just too convenient to resist."

Friday night. After she'd told Chuck, in no uncertain terms, to leave her alone. And he'd done exactly that, leaving with anger and hurt written all over his face. She'd spent her dinner with Nate mulling over the situation, feeling guilty about what she'd said- but not what she'd done. And while she was lying in bed that night, unable to sleep, she'd finally allowed her imagination to roam into previously forbidden territory- thinking, reminiscing, fantasizing… about him.

While he'd been having sex with her best friend.

The pain that shot through Blair's chest was so intense, she felt as though someone had stabbed her in the heart. Inhaling sharply, she crossed her arms and hugged her sides with her hands, trying desperately to hold herself together.

But when she looked up and saw confusion and concern in Dan's expression, she forced her features into something resembling indifference. She couldn't let anyone see her rattled, least of all Dan Humphrey.

"Well, they _are_ the most notorious bed-hoppers on the Upper East Side," she said, managing a disinterested shrug. "It's a wonder it didn't happen years ago."

Her tone was remarkably calm despite her roiling insides.

Dan frowned, and appeared on the verge of responding when his attention was caught by something over her shoulder. Tracking his gaze, she saw a limo pulling up outside the school gates, and her heart caught in her throat.

* * *

><p>"Did you… forget to wear deodorant?" Chuck asked dryly, watching Serena on the seat next to him, as she carefully sniffed the inside lining of her school blazer.<p>

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, I just forgot to have my uniform dry-cleaned."

He shot her a puzzled expression.

"After…Friday night," she clarified.

Chuck smirked in understanding, straightening his own tie and jacket. "Well, I'm sure the overpowering smell of Clinique Happy will distract anyone close enough to notice."

Serena smacked him on the arm, glaring in mock affront as he chuckled and leaned back against the leather seat.

He noticed that Eric was staring at them from the other side of the limo, a slightly horrified expression on his face.

"Something the matter?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope, everything's… fine," Eric replied in a strained voice, turning his gaze towards the window as they pulled to a stop in front of school.

Momentarily distracted from his stepbrother's odd behavior, Chuck took a moment to assess his appearance in the fold-down mirror. He made sure a few locks of hair were artfully tousled across his forehead before following his siblings out into the courtyard.

Spotting something stuck to the back of Serena's plaid skirt, he instinctively leaned forward and pinched it off.

"Chuck!" she yelped, spinning around and swatting his hand away.

"Simmer down, Chiquita, you had a sticker on your ass." He grinned, holding up the offending fruit label as evidence.

"Oh… well, thanks…" Serena said abashedly.

"Been rolling around on the breakfast buffet again?" Chuck asked wryly, and she giggled in response as they continued side-by-side towards the front steps.

Feeling a heated glare burning its way through his skin, he looked up to see two sets of brown eyes fixed on him, both brimming with indignation and disgust.

Dan was outright glowering, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to punch Chuck in the face- repeatedly. Well, this was hardly unusual- in fact, it was the expression Chuck most frequently noticed him wearing- but Blair's visible anger caught him off guard.

_What the fuck_, he thought. Hadn't she gotten her point across with her unholy bitchery on Friday night? Apparently she figured she'd hammer it home by treating him like something she scraped off the bottom of her Manolos.

Fuck that.

Refusing to cower, Chuck assumed an expression of callous indifference, his lips curving into a remorseless smirk.

With the odd realization that he might have an ally in his stepsister, he shot a sideways glance at Serena. She came to a halt beside him, staring back at the pair in surprise and bewilderment. Her brow furrowed as she watched Dan turn on his heel and stride away in an angry huff.

After giving Serena one last accusatory glare, Blair stalked off in the opposite direction.

"What the hell was that?" Serena said, puzzled and dismayed.

Chuck clenched his jaw, tamping down the wounded feeling welling up inside of him. _So this is the way she wants to play it?_ he thought. _Well, fine by me. _

* * *

><p>Staring down at the fingers twined together in her lap, Blair reminded herself, once again, why she had absolutely no reason to be upset. Unfortunately, after a morning of trying- and failing- to will away her inner turmoil, spending her lunch period sitting in a bathroom stall hadn't helped matters. The logical side of her brain was plainly unequipped to fight this battle.<p>

She'd thought there was no way she could face Serena until she managed to pull herself together, and a quiet hour alone had seemed like the perfect solution. Instead, she'd spent it vacillating between irrational anger and equally irrational despondency, while her imagination tortured her with mental images of Chuck and Serena… doing _that_, together. Fortunately she hadn't eaten anything all day, because the very thought was making her stomach turn over.

She heard the bathroom door open and a group of girls enter, laughing and chattering amongst themselves as they crowded around the mirror. Breathing as quietly as possible, she tucked her feet back, not wanting them to recognize her shoes under the stall.

"I can't believe Dan broke up with Serena _again_," she overheard one of the girls whisper conspiratorially.

"What is the _matter_ with him? It's not like he's ever going to be able to do any better." another girl snickered.

"I know, right? She could have any guy she wants," the first commented wistfully.

Blair's mouth twisted into a humorless smile. _Oh, they don't know the half of it_, she thought to herself.

"Did you see her with Chuck Bass this morning?" someone asked in an undertone.

"Oh, he _totally_ wants to hit that."

"Maybe he already has. Maybe they're like… siblings with benefits," another suggested, eliciting a series of "eww"s from the rest of the group.

"Come on, Serena would never go for him. She's obviously more into… nerdy Brooklynites."

"I don't know, Chuck can be _awfully_ persistent when he wants something," one girl commented. "Isn't that right, Sophie?"

Sophie's embarrassed mumbling was drowned out by a chorus of giggles, the sound reverberating around the bathroom as the door swung shut behind them.

Blair felt her heart drop into her feet at their suggestive comments. She stared down at her shoes, her vision blurring as a single tear escaped her eye and splattered onto the tile floor below.

Had Chuck done this for revenge, after how she'd treated him? Maybe. But maybe it had nothing to do with that… maybe he was just horny, and hadn't even spared her a thought.

Or maybe he just wanted Serena. Just like everyone else did.

With an awful tightening sensation in her chest, Blair realized that she wasn't sure which possibility hurt more.

Some foolish, sentimental part of her brain had been convinced that she was more than just another girl to Chuck, that his pursuit of her was different from his usual behavior. That maybe she even… meant something to him. But she'd obviously been deluding herself. She'd seen what she wanted to see instead of what was actually there.

And Serena, as usual, had been the one to demonstrate exactly how replaceable she was.

* * *

><p>"Blair?"<p>

She continued walking through the courtyard, pretending to be engrossed in her phone.

Serena, unfortunately, didn't take the hint. She just quickened her pace to catch up.

"_Blair!_" she entreated, grabbing her friend's wrist to force her to stop.

"Yes?" Blair responded coolly, fixing the blonde with a withering stare.

"Look, I'm sorry if I overreacted the other night, but don't you think you're being just a little bit unreasonable?" Serena said quietly, frustration evident in her voice.

Faced once again with her friend's effortless beauty, perfect figure, and excessive sex appeal, Blair felt the anger start to rise up inside her again.

"Unreasonable?" she repeated bitingly. "_I'm_ being unreasonable?"

"I just don't understand why you're so upset with me," Serena protested in a low voice, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

"You already had Nate. My _own mother _likes you better than me. Wasn't that _enough_?" Blair snapped. "You couldn't leave me with _anyone_?"

Serena flinched in surprise. "You know that's not true-" she began.

"You just couldn't stand the fact that for once, someone wanted me and not you," she interrupted, fighting to control her wavering voice.

Her friend stared back at her in confusion. "Blair, what are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Serena," she retorted, trying to conceal the hurt in her voice. "You saw what happened on Thursday night. You knew exactly what you were doing."

"Blair, I have no idea what I did, but… whatever it is, I'm sorry…" she pleaded.

Seeing the bewilderment on her friend's face, Blair felt her anger start to evaporate. Serena couldn't even help it, she realized. Everyone just wanted her, loved her, preferred her, and she didn't even have to try.

"Just… leave me alone, okay?" she finished dejectedly. Shoulders slumping, she turned and strode towards the exit.

* * *

><p><em>There's no sense in telling me<em>_  
><em>_The wisdom of the fool won't set you free__  
><em>_But that's the way that it goes__  
><em>_And it's what nobody knows__  
><em>_Well every day my confusion grows_

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Blair sat on the chaise lounge in her bedroom, staring blankly out the window. She was ostensibly studying, although her calculus textbook lay unopened beside her. Dorota had refrained from bothering her since she'd come up with a tray of "snacks" and practically gotten her head bitten off.<p>

_Cookies_, she thought disgustedly. If she wanted to consume a week's worth of saturated fat in one sitting, she'd just get a jar of mayonnaise and a spoon and go to town.

Taking another glance at the picturesque scene outside, rays of sun still peaking above the stately buildings and beginning to streak the sky with shades of pink and purple, Blair decided that an overcast day would really suit her mood better. Rain was a much better backdrop for moping, and this bright, happy sunset was just pissing her off.

Casting one last resentful look out the window, she curled her stocking-clad feet up underneath her and opened her textbook. She'd only made it halfway down the page when she heard Dorota's voice call from downstairs.

"Miss Blair, Mister Nate for you!"

Furrowing her brow in surprise, she reached for the cell phone on her bedside table, realizing that it was still on silent. She'd missed three of Nate's calls. Well, that explained the unexpected visit, she thought.

"Come in," she called out, in response to the rapping on her door.

"Hey Blair," Nate closed the door behind him softly and turned to look at her, a faint air of concern coloring his typically relaxed features.

"Hey," she replied impassively. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing, I just… hadn't really heard from you this weekend, and then didn't see you at school today." He paused, looking at her. "I just wanted to make sure everything was okay?"

Blair forced a blasé smile. "Of course everything's okay, why wouldn't it be?" she lied easily. "I was just at the spa this weekend, and then crazy busy all day today."

Nate nodded. "I asked Serena if she'd seen you, and she said you two had gotten into a fight," he continued cautiously. "But it didn't seem like she knew what it was about."

He studied her in silence, as if waiting for an explanation. She didn't oblige, focusing instead on removing an imaginary fleck of lint from her skirt.

"You guys have been getting along so well over the last year. I'd just hate to see that change," he prodded her further.

Blair shrugged disinterestedly. "Serena doesn't always take it well when I question her terrible life choices," she replied, unable to keep a hint of spite out of her voice.

"Well… everyone makes mistakes," he offered. "I'm sure whatever she did wasn't that bad."

Blair's nostrils flared as she regarded her boyfriend, feeling her chest clench in annoyance. God knew she wasn't in the mood to hear someone defend Serena at the moment, least of all him.

"Well, if sleeping with Chuck doesn't count as a terrible life choice, I don't know what does," she responded sharply. "It's practically an STD waiting to happen."

Nate's face froze in surprise. "Wait- what?" he stammered.

"Yeah, it only took him a few hours after Dan broke up with her," Blair continued, her tone laced with acid. "You should probably give him a slap on the back or a high-five or something, whatever guys do to congratulate each other on getting laid."

Unfortunately, sullying Serena's reputation with Nate didn't make her feel any better- his crestfallen expression was just twisting the knife in deeper. After a full day of getting her self-esteem pummeled, leave it to her boyfriend to deliver the knockout blow.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does that upset you for some reason?" she asked caustically, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well, it's just that… Chuck wouldn't… " he trailed off, a look of sad uncertainty on his face.

"What, sleep with someone you obviously have feelings for?" Blair snapped.

"No, it's not… that, I just…" he hedged.

"Goddammit, Nate, will you stop being so fucking transparent?" she shouted, and he recoiled in shock.

Her angry words echoed around the room as the two stared at each other, Nate rendered momentarily speechless by her uncharacteristic outburst.

"Blair…. no, _listen_," he begged as she turned away from him. "It's not that. It's just … you saw the blast. You know how upset she was on Friday night. And I can't believe Chuck would take advantage of her like that."

Blair narrowed her eyes at him skeptically.

"Well, I mean, I know he would with other girls," he admitted. "I just always thought he was different with you and Serena, you know? You're supposed to be his friends."

She nodded reluctantly, avoiding his eyes.

"I guess I just thought he had… more respect for you guys, that's all," he concluded sadly.

Blair sighed, her heart growing heavy as she considered her boyfriend's words. He really had no idea what kind of person his best friend was. Well, she wasn't going to be the one to disillusion him- time would take care of that on its own.

But she _was_ going to give said best friend a piece of her mind, she decided.

"Well, Serena's a big girl, I'm sure she can take care of herself," she responded calmly, glancing at her watch. "Listen, I have a lot of studying to do, do you mind if we just catch up tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm supposed to get home for dinner anyway…" Nate paused, looking like he was torn between wanting to salvage the conversation and wanting to escape from it. "Um, are we…. are we okay here?"

"Of course, sweetie," Blair replied, smiling tightly. "I just really need to get some work done tonight, that's all."

Looking relieved, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips before departing. She watched him leave and checked her watch again, deciding to give him ten minutes to clear the premises before she called the car around.

If Chuck thought she'd been bitchy on Friday night, he had no idea what he was in for.

* * *

><p><em>I'm not sure what this could mean<em>_  
><em>_I don't think you're what you seem__  
><em>_I do admit to myself__  
><em>_That if I hurt someone else__  
><em>_Then I'll never see just what we're meant to be_

* * *

><p>Tying the ascot around his neck with practiced movements, he tucked it carefully into his shirt collar before taking one last appraising look in the mirror. The paisley design contrasted nicely with the pinstripes on his shirt, and the pale lilac shade was the perfect foil for his charcoal slacks and vest. But it was still missing something, he decided. He perused his collection of pocket squares, holding several up against himself to check the color palate before making his selection.<p>

He'd just finished carefully arranging the purple square into his vest pocket, when a series of sharp knocks sounded against his bedroom door.

"Come in," he called out, finger-combing his hair behind his ears. His hands froze momentarily when he saw the image of an irate Blair Waldorf reflected behind him.

"Blair," he greeted her coolly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, I doubt you'll be getting much pleasure out of this conversation," she responded sharply, pulling the door closed behind her with excessive force.

He turned and watched as she strode towards him, fuming with indignation and clearly spoiling for a fight. She dropped her purse on his bedside table, presumably so she would have both hands free to pummel him.

"You do seem to be missing your trademark sunny disposition," he remarked mockingly. From the flash of ire in her eyes, he could tell that mocking was not the best tactic to take here, but he'd had just about enough of her crap at this point.

"Perhaps something about your presence just has that effect on me," she retorted, hands on her hips.

He gave an exaggerated sigh, raking his eyes over her tense figure. "Well, don't keep me in suspense," he said. "What do you have your panties in a twist about today?"

He turned back towards the mirror, adjusting his collar with affected disinterest. "Make it quick, though, I'm on my way out," he added.

Chuck could practically feel her seething in response, waves of anger radiating off of her tiny frame. Unfortunately, he found her temper kind of a turn on. _Definitely have to get that under control_, he thought to himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I delaying your evening of drinking and whoring around?" she snapped.

"As a matter of fact, you are," he replied, unperturbed.

"Were your weekend exploits not sufficiently satisfying?" she asked icily.

Well, since the sum total of his exploits had been two minutes of making out with Blair, followed by a thorough tongue lashing- and not the kind he liked- and a weekend of being too hung up on the whole situation to even relieve himself the old-fashioned way… no, he would not describe them as satisfying.

"Well, you know me, I'm always up for another round," he responded smarmily, giving her a once-over. "Unless you wanted to… resume where we left off the other night?"

Exhaling sharply, her hands balled into fists at her sides, Blair gave him a look that could have cut glass.

"You are _disgusting_," she bit out. "Is this your MO? Waiting for girls to break up with their boyfriends, and then swooping in and taking advantage while they're sad and vulnerable?"

"Is that the story you're going with now? That I took advantage of you when I stole your precious virginity?" Chuck let out a humorless laugh. "That's funny, because I distinctly recall _you_ kissing _me_, climbing on top of _me_, ripping the buttons off my shirt-"

"I'm not… talking about that," she interrupted, looking flustered for a second.

"Then _what_?" he asked belligerently, feeling his indifferent façade beginning to slip. "What exactly have I done that's so terrible, you felt your little tirade on Friday needed an encore performance? Because hearing you tell me I'm a piece of shit is starting to get really old, Waldorf."

"Then maybe you should stop _acting like one_," Blair snapped, her voice rising with every word. "Do you really need to have sex with every girl you trip over?"

"I'm sorry, I don't recall hiring you to be my morality coach," he replied heatedly. "Remind me again why my sex life is any of your business?"

"Because Serena is my _best friend_!" she shouted back.

Her words echoed around the room. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment, Blair's chest heaving up and down in indignation.

"… What?" he finally replied, confusion tempering the anger in his expression.

"Don't 'what' me, you know exactly what I'm talking about," she shot back.

Racking his brain for a moment, he ran down a mental list of all the immoral, perverted, and otherwise objectionable things he'd done recently that had anything to do with Serena, and came up with nothing.

He shook his head, raising his eyebrows questioningly at her.

"Eric saw you two on Friday night," she said accusingly, looking irritated that she even needed to explain it to him.

"… Getting high?" he asked, confused. "_That's_ what you're upset about? You're dating Nate, for Christ's sake."

"No... " Her voice faltered almost imperceptibly as she stubbornly refused to meet his eyes. "Having sex."

Chuck furrowed his brow in disbelief.

"Serena and I had _sex_?" he snorted. "That's news to me."

"There's no point in lying about it, Chuck," she replied, her tone growing less angry and more forlorn.

"Look, Blair," he sighed. "I've certainly done my fair share of sleeping around, but I'm pretty sure I would remember banging my stepsister."

She looked away, folding her arms across her chest and appearing unconvinced… and obviously distressed.

_Well, this is an interesting development_, he thought. One he definitely intended to revisit once he finished clearing his name.

"You want to see what Serena and I were doing on Friday night?" He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and began scrolling through his photos.

"I'm not interested in watching your sex tape, Chuck," she replied sharply, refusing to acknowledge the phone he held out towards her.

Undeterred, he continued to display the photo on the screen.

"_That_ is Serena passed out after a rabid case of the munchies," he explained sardonically. "Which, as far as I know, is the only physical passion she experienced that evening."

Blair finally gave in and glanced at the snapshot. An uncontrolled snort of laughter escaped her mouth before she quickly covered it with her hand.

Replacing the phone in his pocket, Chuck regarded her closely. "I didn't touch her, Blair."

She was rendered momentarily speechless as a wave of relief washed over her face.

"Oh," she finally replied, a blush working its way across her cheeks.

"So…" he paused, studying her intently. "Are you going to apologize for yelling at me?"

Blair was _trying_ to look contrite, he thought, but she couldn't hide the flash of mutiny in her eyes.

"Well, I'm… sorry," she conceded, sounding so much like a stubborn child that the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

"Apology accepted," he responded dryly. "Now are you going to explain why, exactly, the idea of me sleeping with Serena got you so worked up?"

Her eyes widened in surprise and she hesitated, obviously unprepared for the question.

"Well, I was just… angry that you would've taken advantage of her when she was so upset about Dan," she improvised quickly.

"Mmm hmm." Chuck nodded, continuing to scrutinize her. "Now are you going to tell me the real reason?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied hastily, sounding defensive…. and unconvincing, he decided.

"Waldorf," he began, grinning impudently, "do you… _like_ me?"

She flushed pink with embarrassment.

"Don't be ridiculous, Chuck," she scoffed.

Her haughty tone was belied by the increasing redness of her cheeks, and the fact that her eyes kept darting towards the door as if seeking an escape route.

"I think you do," he declared, unable to hide a triumphant smirk at the thought. "I think you can't stand the idea with me with anyone else, least of all Serena, because you want me for yourself."

Blair narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not appreciating his cockiness.

"Well, while I admit that my body may have some… vestigial attraction for you," she allowed. "My brain knows better."

"Does it now?" he responded with amusement. He definitely liked where this was going.

"So really, I don't care who or what you have sex with," she continued, not meeting his eyes. "I was just upset by the idea of you… taking advantage of my best friend while she was in an emotionally vulnerable state, that's all."

"I see," he nodded, pursing his lips in mock seriousness. "So, hypothetically speaking, you won't mind if I have sex with Serena once she's emotionally stable again? Because she is… right across the hall. I mean, you can't beat that for convenience."

Blair opened her mouth and then closed it again, swallowing visibly.

"Or…." he continued, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, "You could just admit that you don't want me to do that."

"Fine," she exhaled in frustration. "I don't want you to do that."

"Because you like me," he added helpfully.

"Well, you don't have to be so smug about it," she retorted, glaring at him in annoyance.

His satisfied grin only seemed to rile her further, and she crossed her arms with an angry huff. It was almost worth provoking her, he thought, because she looked so ridiculously sexy right now- cheeks flushed, eyes flashing furiously, breasts… heaving… which she'd definitely just caught him looking at, he realized with an unapologetic smirk.

"Ugh, you are _heinous_," she groaned, covering her face with her hands. "What is the _matter_ with me?"

Grinning at her melodramatic antics, he took a seat on his bed and waited for her to look at him. When she finally did, the air between them crackled with almost palpable tension.

They were both acutely aware of how much had changed between them.

"So the question remains," Chuck continued, a faint smirk still lingering on his face. "What are we going to do about this?"

"_Do_?" Blair echoed, as if appalled by the very word. "There's nothing to _do_." She shook her head briskly. "We forget this conversation ever took place and wait for the problem to go away."

"If that's been your approach for the last year, I would categorize it as… unsuccessful," he responded wryly.

"Well then, do you have a better suggestion?" she shot back.

"I have many better suggestions. They all involve both of us wearing a lot less clothes," he commented, his voice laden with innuendo.

"Has it completely escaped your mind that I have a _boyfriend_?" she asked incredulously. "Remember Nate? You know, your _best friend_?"

Admittedly, he did tend to forget about Nate when Blair was in the vicinity- especially when the two of them were alone in a room with a bed. In fact, if she took just one step forward, he'd be able to reach out and grab her hips, pulling her on top of him and sliding his hands underneath that little plaid skirt…

Trying to corral his wayward thoughts, he focused on the conversation at hand.

"You're not happy with Nate," he replied succinctly, raising his eyebrows at her when she appeared about to protest.

He almost felt guilty about forcing the issue when he saw the flash of sad resignation on her face- but it was gone in an instant, replaced with amused skepticism.

"So you want me to break up with him, and what… date you?" she asked in disbelief, as if the very idea were preposterous. "Be your _girlfriend_?"

The mockery with which she said those words couldn't disguise the expectant, maybe even hopeful, look in her eyes.

Stunned into silence, Chuck recognized belatedly that he probably should've anticipated this question. But was that really what he wanted? A girlfriend? It certainly didn't sound like him. Monogamy, quite frankly, had never been on the agenda. And hand-holding, awkward small talk, and sexless cuddling weren't high on his list of priorities either.

He hadn't given much thought to his intentions, aside from intending to have sex with Blair, and lots of it. In fact, he'd focused so much on "getting" her that he hadn't really considered what that actually entailed. Was he just supposed to take over Nate's role in her life? Was he even capable of that?

Unfortunately, this was not the moment to get lost in contemplation. He realized too late that his silence- along with the confusion and uneasiness written all over his face- had already answered the question for him.

The brief glimpse of vulnerability he'd seen in her eyes vanished, and Blair regarded him with that same look of disappointment he'd been receiving his entire life… although he couldn't remember it ever stinging this much.

"Exactly," she stated, sounding resigned. "Not really your scene, is it?"

Picking her purse up off his bedside table, she walked towards the door, pausing in the doorway to glance over her shoulder.

"I'll see you at school," she said dispassionately, only the barest hint of hurt visible in her eyes.

Not trusting himself to form any sort of coherent response, Chuck nodded and watched her go, his gaze lingering after her.

_Shit_, he thought, running his hands through his hair. _What the hell just happened?_

* * *

><p><em>Every time I see you falling<em>_  
><em>_I get down on my knees and pray__  
><em>_I'm waiting for that final moment__  
><em>_You'll say the words that I can't say_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks, as usual, to my partner-in-crime Terrabeth (since "beta" is simply not an adequate description).

Many apologies for the delay in updating! My only excuse is a massive case of writer's block- which, thankfully, seems to have resolved itself. I do always appreciate your reviews though, and find them extremely motivating.

No, that's not blackmail, it's bribery. There's a difference :)


	12. Percussion Gun

.

**Chapter 12: Percussion Gun**

_Well how do you do  
>A kiss on the cheek<br>It's been a while  
>So I'll just beg, borrow and steal all your time<br>We'll call it dignified  
>Well now it all seems to be cut and dried<em>

_-White Rabbits_

Awakened from an uneasy slumber by sunlight peaking around the edges of her sleep mask, Blair winced and pulled the covers up over her head. She'd tossed and turned for hours, agonizing over the impending fallout of her encounter with Chuck- but now morning had arrived and she was no closer to a solution.

What had begun as a patented Blair Waldorf smackdown had gone completely off the rails. Not only had she let it slip that she had feelings for him, she'd practically begged him to return the sentiment. When he hadn't said a word- only gaped at her in response- she'd been forced to gather up the shredded remains of her dignity and go home to drown herself in her bathtub.

What the fuck had she been thinking? Had she seriously considered the possibility that Chuck Bass might be interested in anything other than sex? He'd taken every opportunity to gloat over her pitiful, ridiculous crush on him, and instead of shutting him down, she'd just given him more ammunition.

Blair rolled over and groaned into her pillow, wishing she could go back in time twelve hours and throttle her idiot self.

At least this latest soul-crushing humiliation would be hers to suffer in private, she tried to console herself. Chuck couldn't tell anyone about last night without the risk of outing his own reprehensible behavior to Nate. After all, he was the one who'd initiated all of their recent encounters… although she certainly hadn't done much to discourage him. Her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, she recalled how eagerly she had responded to Chuck in this very room only a few nights ago.

Nate, of course, didn't have a clue about any of this. Nate, who had come over the previous afternoon just because he was worried about her. Nate, who loved her and would never suspect that she had betrayed him with his best friend.

Clearly she'd gotten carried away with the secrecy, the intrigue, and the intense sexual chemistry between her and Chuck. The whole forbidden aspect of their interactions had made her develop feelings that had no basis in logic or reality. But with a little time, and some concentrated effort, there was no reason she couldn't murder those feelings dead. And until that was accomplished, she just had to hold her head up high and act like she hadn't completely disgraced herself.

She just couldn't believe she'd been so blinded by a silly, inexplicable infatuation that she'd started questioning her relationship with her boyfriend. In fact, she'd had the most delusional idea floating around in her head all weekend that she had to make some sort of choice between him and Chuck.

Blair shook her head sadly, scoffing at her own ridiculousness.

She had one boy who loved her and wanted to be with her… and one who just wanted to sleep with her. There was no choice to be made.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, family," Chuck greeted his stepsiblings with a smirk, sliding into a seat across the breakfast table.<p>

Serena rolled her eyes and Eric nodded, staring intently down at his plate. They ate in silence while Chuck poured himself some badly-needed coffee- his bemused brain had gone round in circles until the early hours of the morning, and he'd gotten very little sleep as a result.

He glanced over at his siblings and noted that Eric was still avoiding eye contact- probably torturing himself with disturbing mental images, Chuck thought with a smirk, deciding to let him stew about it for awhile longer. Serena, on the other hand, was too busy brooding to take any notice of either of them.

Selecting a croissant and some fruit, Chuck studied his stepsister with a sudden spark of curiosity. He'd known Serena since preschool, and she'd always been the free-spirited type. And as soon as she'd hit puberty, her lifestyle had begun resembling his own more than she'd probably care to admit. In terms of numbers, of course, she wasn't even in the same ballpark, but she'd had more than her fair share of one-night stands and drug-fueled escapades.

Probably even a threesome or two, he decided, grinning to himself.

Serena quirked a skeptical eyebrow in his direction, as though she could read his thoughts and thoroughly disapproved of them.

To his chagrin, this state of affairs had changed drastically a year ago, when she'd come back from boarding school acting all virtuous... and apparently harboring no regrets about leaving her hedonistic lifestyle in the past. Having been well-acquainted with her unreformed self- rebellious, uninhibited, and lacking any sort of attention span when it came to the opposite sex- Chuck had never pegged her for someone who would be content settling down.

And yet here she was sitting across from him, moping into her orange juice over the prospect of a life unshackled from Dan Humphrey's tedious presence. Clearly there was something he didn't understand about this arrangement.

"So how do you feel about… monogamy?" Chuck asked casually, swirling his cup of coffee.

Serena stared back in confusion. "… What do you mean?"

"You know, relationships, commitment, having someone in your life whose sole purpose is to prevent you from having sex with other people," he continued. "Do you find that… enjoyable?"

"Uh…" Serena paused, looking taken aback. "Well, it's not so much the concept that's enjoyable, it depends on… who it's with."

Tilting his head slightly, Chuck considered her words.

"Unfortunately, your only relationship experience is with Humphrey," he mused. "But assuming a better choice of partner, you view this as something that would… improve your life?"

Eric practically choked on his muffin, his eyes ping-ponging between the two of them in dismay.

"For your information, Dan is- was, a wonderful boyfriend," she replied defensively, shooting him a warning glare.

"Mmm hmm," Chuck said, unconvinced.

"But to answer your question, yes," she continued. "I was much happier with Dan than I ever was before I met him."

Chuck nodded, pondering this information as he took a bite of his croissant. Eric, on the other hand, looked like he was about to be ill.

"Why do you ask?" Serena studied him with suspicion.

"Just curious, that's all." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Don't tell me the legendary Chuck Bass is actually considering settling down," she laughed, raising her eyebrows at him.

"It was a hypothetical question, Serena," he replied in his most jaded tone. "Just considering the feasibility of such a… counterintuitive lifestyle choice, that's all."

"Ah, but now that you have someone in mind, maybe it's starting to seem a little less counterintuitive?" she teased, grinning knowingly.

Narrowing his eyes at her, Chuck took a sip of coffee to avoid answering.

"_Oh my God_," Eric burst out suddenly, causing Chuck and Serena to freeze in surprise. "You two are _related_ now. Our parents are _married, _and I have to _live_ with both of you."

Serena stared at him in confusion.

"I swear to God, if you start dating each other, I will… kill myself for real this time," he finished melodramatically, his cheeks flushed with outrage.

"Eric, what are you talking about?" she asked, glancing over at Chuck when he let out an amused scoff.

"Oh, by the way, Serena," he commented sardonically. "Your brother seems to be under the impression that you and I spent Friday night boning each other."

Her eyes widened in shock as she swiveled her gaze back towards Eric, who instantly flushed beet-red. His mouth opened and then closed again, but without any actual sound coming out.

"_What_?" she asked incredulously. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, since we're already on the topic, I'd be interested to know as well," Chuck added, regarding his stepbrother over the rim of his cup.

Shifting uncomfortably under their scrutiny, Eric stared down at the table to avoid their eyes.

"I, uh, I just saw you come out of her room in the middle of the night, and you were, uh, it looked like you were putting your pants back on," he stammered.

"So what, a guy comes out of my room and you just assume I had _sex_ with him?" Serena asked indignantly, her blue eyes flashing in warning.

"Well, no, it's not that, but it was… Chuck…" Eric trailed off helplessly.

"He does have a point." Chuck offered.

Serena shot him an annoyed glare and he shrugged in response.

"What? I consider it a compliment." He smirked, returning his attention to his breakfast.

"Wait, did you…" A horrified expression crossed Serena's face. "Did you _tell_ anyone that that happened?"

"No! I mean… I mentioned it to Jenny, but I said I wasn't sure, and she wouldn't… say anything…" Eric faltered, looking legitimately afraid of the expression on his sister's face.

"Oh my God, she told Dan," Serena realized. "Dan thinks… oh my God."

Chuck nodded in understanding. "Well, that does explain why he was trying to make my head explode with his mind yesterday..." he commented, grinning as he pictured Humphrey's look of face-punching fury.

"I'm so sorry, Serena, I didn't mean for that to happen," Eric said earnestly. "I'm sure once you explain, tell him it was my fault… he'll understand."

Serena sighed, the ire in her expression beginning to fade.

"I'm not mad at you, Eric," she responded sadly. "I just... I wish he'd come and talked to me about it, instead of just… believing whatever he heard."

"Well, Blair certainly believed it, but she was at least considerate enough to come rip my head off in person," Chuck said dryly.

He couldn't help smiling a little as he recalled her marching into his room the night before, seething with jealous fury.

"Me too, she gave me an earful yesterday, and I had no idea why…" Serena trailed off, realization dawning in her eyes.

Eric's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Wait, why would that upset Blair?" he asked, looking back and forth at them questioningly.

A beat of silence followed, during which Serena cleared her throat and Chuck found himself at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

"Well, you know Blair, she doesn't need a reason to bitch somebody out," he finally responded.

Taking one last sip of coffee, he rose to his feet. "Anyone who wants a ride, limo's leaving in five," he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away from the table.

* * *

><p>Serena paused at the entrance to the boys' hall, scanning over the sea of blazers and striped ties. Finally spotting Dan, who was standing next to the water fountain and shuffling through the books in his messenger bag, she felt her heart start pounding erratically.<p>

After Eric's revelation at breakfast that morning, she'd been so eager to find him and explain everything… but now she found herself hesitating.

Telling him the truth wouldn't change anything he'd said to her on Friday night, she realized. He'd broken up with _her_, and what she had or hadn't done afterwards was irrelevant. And the more she thought about it, the more she started to question whether he had any right to be upset with her at all.

At that moment, he looked up and his chocolate brown eyes met hers, a spark of tension passing between them. Steeling herself, she maintained eye contact as she walked towards him.

"Hey Dan," she greeted him.

"Hey," he responded in a flat tone.

She could tell from the tight expression on his face that he was uncomfortable, upset… and pissed. He was pissed off at her over a _rumor_, she realized incredulously. A rumor with no basis in fact whatsoever.

Dan had always had some… judgmental tendencies, but he'd definitely outdone himself this time.

Tamping down her own annoyance temporarily, she decided to just stick to the facts.

"So I hear your sister's spreading gossip about me and Chuck," she said matter-of-factly.

Dan's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise, clearly not expecting her to be so direct.

"Well, it's based on… inaccurate information," Serena continued. "Nothing happened. Nothing… would ever happen between me and Chuck."

The flicker of relief she saw on his face was almost enough to undo her resolve- but not quite.

"Anyway," she added, rolling her eyes, "I just wanted to set the record straight."

With a toss of her gold waves, she turned to leave.

"Wait, Serena-"

She paused reluctantly, looking back at him.

"Maybe we could get together and, uh, talk about everything?" Dan said earnestly.

She stared back at him in silence for a moment. He was looking at her with that endearing awkwardness she'd always found so charming, but at the moment she felt oddly immune to it.

"I was just thinking, you know, that I might have been a little too… impulsive, with what I said on Friday, and maybe I should… reconsider." he stammered, trying to gauge her response.

He was reconsidering their relationship _again_, she thought… but only after finding out that she hadn't behaved like a giant tramp like he'd assumed. It was bad enough that he kept believing the worst of her, but it was the constant hypocrisy that really made her teeth grind. After all, he'd spent all summer slutting it up, while she was too busy thinking about him to even make a halfhearted pass at a townie lifeguard.

Fuck this. She wasn't the kind of girl who let guys just walk all over her- she was Serena van der Woodsen, for Christ's sake.

"You know, Dan, I think I'm a little talked out," she responded coolly- and felt a glimmer of satisfaction when he frowned in response. "It's been good catching up with you though!"

He stared after her in surprise and confusion as she strode down the hallway, unable to hold back the triumphant little smile that curled her lips.

* * *

><p>Nate thumbed distractedly through his phone as he made his way to class, rounding the corner towards his locker. He didn't even see Serena until he literally ran into her- sending books and papers and cell phones flying in every direction.<p>

"Oh, Serena- I'm so sorry," he apologized, stooping down to pick up their scattered belongings.

"Oh no, it was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," she replied with a self-effacing smile, handing him his history book.

Once they'd finished sorting through their mixed papers and popping the batteries back into their phones, they stood in silence for a brief, awkward moment.

"So, uh... how's it going?" Nate asked casually, giving her a subtle once-over.

Well, she didn't appear to have been... ravished, he decided. At least, she didn't look as glassy-eyed and loose-limbed as the women who typically emerged from Chuck's suite on the weekends.

"Oh, not too bad," Serena responded. "It's just been kind of a rough week, I guess."

"Um, Serena, it's only Tuesday morning," he pointed out with a forced laugh.

"Yeah, probably not a good sign, right?" She grinned as she pushed a lock of blonde hair off her forehead, perfectly framing her face.

"Well…" Nate hesitated. "I just… wanted to make sure you're doing alright, you seemed upset yesterday."

He hoped to God that she'd been upset because of... girl issues. Not because she'd been unceremoniously shoved out of Chuck's bed at five o'clock on Saturday morning.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Blair texted me about having lunch, so hopefully we can straighten everything out," she replied, rifling through her hobo bag.

Retrieving a tube of lipgloss, she unscrewed the cap and began to apply it. Nate lost his train of thought for a moment, watching her slowly encircle her pursed lips with the sparkling pink gloss- and suddenly realized that it was his turn to speak.

"Oh, uh… that's great news," he finally responded. "Well, you know Blair, she just… overreacts sometimes."

"Believe me, I know." Serena laughed, shaking her head. "Apparently she heard some rumor I hooked up with Chuck, can you believe it?"

Nate blinked in surprise as an unexpected wave of relief washed over him.

"Oh, I mean, yeah," he stuttered, trying to stifle his elation. "Like, who would ever believe that?"

"Oh my God," Serena sighed, her eyes widening in dismay. "You heard it too?"

"Oh no, just…" Nate floundered for words. "Blair may have mentioned something about it," he hedged. "And I was kind of, you know, worried, after everything you've been going through with Dan…"

He paused a moment, looking searchingly at her. "But I knew it wasn't true," he lied.

"Of _course_ it's not true," Serena insisted. "I would never do that to-" She stopped mid-sentence, apparently fumbling for an appropriate way to continue. "Well, I would never do that," she concluded vaguely, avoiding his gaze.

Nate felt his heart suddenly start to pound a little faster.

She was talking about _him_. Of course Serena would never sleep with his best friend, not after the night they'd shared... it must have meant something to her after all.

"Just because, well, it's Chuck," Serena explained with a shrug, smiling sheepishly.

"Right… yeah." He smiled back, holding her gaze for an extra beat or two before he cleared his throat. "So, um, are you coming to Blair's party on Friday?" he asked.

"Like she'd let me miss it." Serena laughed. "Although, I'm guessing she'll be more than happy to remove Dan from the guest list," she added wryly, rolling her eyes.

"Oh... so you guys haven't worked things out?" Nate asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

"No, I think maybe we're really just... better off as friends," she replied with a regretful sigh. A flash of sadness crossed her face, before she shook it off and gave him a dazzling smile. "Well, I'd better get to class. Good talking to you, Nate!"

She gave a little wave in farewell and strolled off down the hall. Nate stared after her for a lingering moment, a half-smile tilting his lips to one side- and then headed off toward his next class with a noticeable bounce to his step.

* * *

><p>"Want me to roll another one?" Chuck drawled, gesturing towards the baggie on the coffee table with a languid wave of his hand.<p>

"Nah, man, I'm all set," Nate responded, his features slackened with contentment.

The two sat in silence for a few moments, relaxing against the sofa and enjoying their mellow buzz.

"You know," he continued with a goofy grin, "I really missed this. It just wasn't the same without you around."

"Don't go getting all sentimental on me, Archibald," Chuck scoffed, although he couldn't resist a wry smile of his own.

He'd been avoiding Nate ever since Friday night, when he'd violated any remaining tenets of the bro code he hadn't already broken- but his best friend had invited himself over to the Palace suite after school today, claiming to be in desperate need of "relaxation". And since Chuck couldn't keep acting like he had something to hide, he'd been forced to acquiesce.

At least smoking up with Nate was a welcome distraction from the Blair-related turmoil that seemed to have taken over his brain. Approximately every five minutes, his thoughts kept circling back around to the question she'd asked him- and what might have happened if he'd actually answered it with an affirmative.

"I hear you found yourself a new smoking buddy," Nate commented with a chuckle. "I hope you're not replacing me with Serena?"

"Not likely." Chuck rolled his eyes. "A few puffs and she was done for the night. Must be out of practice after all that… good behavior."

Nate nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

"Remember that night… summer after freshman year, I think… when we were smoking up on Cooper's Beach, and Serena decided we should all go skinny-dipping?" he mused with a grin. "I can't believe we let her talk us into that, the water must've been like… fifty degrees."

Serena hadn't actually talked them into anything, as far as Chuck could recall. She'd just stripped down and taken off running towards the ocean- but apparently that was all the convincing Nate had needed.

"And Blair wouldn't even get in the water, she just stood on the beach yelling that she wasn't coming in after us if we drowned." Nate laughed, shaking his head.

"She came in eventually," Chuck replied absentmindedly.

He could still picture Blair standing on the shore with her arms crossed, muttering something about sharks as she watched them paddle around in the chest-deep water. He'd known she was probably feeling a little left out by that point- after all, the three of them had just spent the last few hours getting high, while she waved the smoke away from her face and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Still, she'd finally decided to join them, slipping her little sundress over her head and folding it neatly on top of her sandals. He'd watched her step gingerly towards the water, squealing when the first icy wave hit her toes, before assuming a determined expression and jumping into the surf. That's when he'd realized the underwear she was wearing- white cotton panties adorned with little pink ribbon bows and a matching bra- became translucent when wet.

It had been somewhat of a turning point for him- the first time he'd had seriously inappropriate thoughts about his best friend's girlfriend.

Not that Nate had ever noticed, of course. He'd have to actually be paying attention to do that.

"I can't believe people were saying you two slept together," Nate commented, shaking his head.

Chuck's breath caught in his throat before he realized Nate was referring to Serena.

"Well, I suppose my reputation precedes me," he replied in a dry tone. "But you know what they say about shitting where you eat, and I'm stuck living with her for the rest of senior year."

Nate snorted in amusement, before suddenly turning pensive.

"Man, I can't believe we only have another year before we all go off to college," he said. "Applications are due by January… it just seems so soon."

"Yeah, Lily's started dropping 'subtle' hints about Brown over family dinner." Chuck rolled his eyes. "I'm running out of polite ways to explain that a school full of unshaven veganistas is… incompatible with my lifestyle."

"Have you thought about where you do want to go?" Nate asked, glancing over at him.

"Not really." Chuck shrugged disinterestedly. He figured his father would probably buy his way in to somewhere prestigious, since his grades certainly wouldn't be sufficient. "Still planning on Dartmouth?"

"Well, I figure my dad gave up his right to pressure me into Dartmouth when he, you know, fled the country as a fugitive," Nate responded with a hint of bitterness. "So I'm thinking USC, maybe UCLA. Somewhere warm and sunny and… away from this whole… family situation," he finished, gesturing awkwardly.

Chuck nodded in understanding.

"You think Blair's going to let you move to the other side of the country though?" he said with raised eyebrows. "She already has the Dartmouth-Yale commute all planned out."

"Yeah, I know." Nate sighed, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. "I don't think that's gonna work out anyway, though, us staying together when we go to college."

"What?" Chuck's brow furrowed in surprise. "I thought that was… part of the plan."

"Well yeah, but it's… college, you know? We'll be hours apart, really busy, meeting lots of new people..." Nate shrugged. "Besides, long-distance relationships never work."

"Does Blair… agree with that assessment?" Chuck asked, trying to control the hint of accusation in his voice.

"I dunno, man, it's not like we really talk about this stuff," Nate responded, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him.

"So you're going to, what, break up with her at graduation?" he asked disbelievingly.

"I haven't really thought that far ahead," Nate replied testily. "I just figured we'd... go our separate ways. Isn't that what most people do when they go to college?"

The traitorous satisfaction that Chuck experienced every time Nate fucked things up with Blair was suddenly at war with an odd sense of resentment on her behalf.

"Nate, she thinks you two are going to end up _married_," he countered, swallowing down the tightness in his throat. "You can't just string her along for the rest of the year."

Nate frowned, looking annoyed.

"Dude, since when do you care so much about what Blair wants?" he asked skeptically.

_Well, one of us has to_, Chuck wanted to shoot back. But Nate was looking at him as if he'd grown a second head, and, realizing how uncharacteristic his reaction must seem, he fumbled for a response.

"It's not that, it's just…" He paused for a second, thinking over his next sentence. "Why would you spend your senior year tied down to a girl you're just going to dump anyway?"

"Well, I dunno, it's nice to… have someone," Nate hesitated. "And Blair's… well, she's a great girl."

_That _was the best he could come up with? Chuck thought in disbelief. Even given his best friend's limited vocabulary, there was no excuse for that sort of halfhearted bullshit.

Blair Waldorf wasn't a "great girl"- she was the most beautiful, devious, clever, infuriating girl he'd ever met. She kept him on his toes, challenging him in a way no one else ever had, and she drove him practically insane with wanting her.

And Nate was incapable of truly appreciating any of that, because he didn't understand her. He was just too simple, too… oblivious. He breezed through life, paying attention only to what was directly in front of him- unless he got distracted by something bright and shiny. When faced with someone as passionate and complicated as Blair, the best he could do was stare at her with a mix of mild interest and bewilderment. It was like that one time Chuck had watched him try to solve a Rubik's cube.

Admittedly, it had bruised his ego when she'd gone running back to Nate after their short affair last year- but it had infuriated him that she'd ended up back in the same dysfunctional relationship, with a guy whose indifference constantly made her feel second-best. And he just couldn't stomach the thought of Blair hanging onto her girlhood dreams of a happy future with Nate, only to have her hopes crushed, yet again, by a guy who didn't even deserve her.

He'd been fighting against it all week, trying to dismiss the idea as ridiculous, trying to talk himself out of his own feelings- but he could no longer deny that he wanted what Nate had. And even though the entire concept of a committed relationship had been... disconcerting, at first, he was definitely starting to warm up to it.

Because, Jesus- even though his boyfriend qualifications were questionable at best, he could surely do a better job than _Nate_.

And since his friend clearly wasn't going to figure out on his own that he should step aside, perhaps he needed a little shove in the right direction.

"Look, Blair's great and all," Chuck commented, assuming a bored tone. "But why delay the inevitable?"

"Well…" Nate paused, considering his words. "Things are fine between us, we've been getting along and everything… and the sex is always good," he added, with a suggestive grin.

Chuck gritted his teeth, willing himself not to beat the smug expression off his friend's face.

"Well, take it from me, there's plenty of great sex to be had out there," he commented dryly. "You're seventeen years old, Nathaniel. You should be enjoying yourself, not stuck at home playing _husband_." He put all the disdain he could muster into the last word.

"Hey, I still go out and have fun," Nate protested.

Chuck scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Are you kidding? You had to cancel on the burlesque show at Victrola this weekend because of some stuffy dinner at the Waldorfs. Is spending your Saturday nights making boring small-talk with someone else's parents really your idea of fun?"

"Well… not so much," Nate admitted with a self-deprecating grin.

"I'm just saying, it's our last year of high school, we should be living it up, playing the field," Chuck said, leaning back onto the sofa and shrugging his shoulders.

Seeing uncertainty in his friend's expression, he pressed his advantage, aiming for the one area where he knew Nate was vulnerable.

"Not to mention, it's your last chance to score with any of our… eligible female classmates," he pointed out, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Nate remained silent, but it was obvious from his furrowed brow that the hamster on his brain-wheel was running at full speed.

"Just think of all the… missed opportunities," Chuck mused, his trademark smarminess in full effect.

"Yeah, I guess," Nate murmured, appearing lost in thought.

"But enough with all this girl talk." Chuck sat up and retrieved his baggie of weed and rolling papers from the coffee table. "What do you say to another joint?"

* * *

><p>The party was in full swing when Blair and Serena stepped into 230 Fifth that Friday night. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined two walls of the enormous club, providing a breathtaking view of the city, and the dance floor in the center was already crowded with laughing partygoers. Along the sides, the gleaming glass-and-chrome bar and opulent velvet sofas were packed with students lucky enough to receive an invite.<p>

"Come on S, you have to see the roof deck!" Blair tugged on her friend's arm, leading her up the central staircase.

Trees and flowers dotted the large rooftop terrace, adorned by strings of white lights that twinkled against the Manhattan skyline. Looming above them was an unobstructed view of the Empire State Building, glowing blue against the night sky.

"Oh my gosh, B, this place is _gorgeous_," Serena gushed, peering out over the balcony. "I can't believe you managed to book it on such short notice!"

Blair shrugged modestly, unable to hide a satisfied smile. She'd had to bribe and threaten a few people, of course, but the ends certainly justified the means.

Things had actually been looking up over the past few days. She'd managed to pull together a fabulous party, Nate had been unusually sweet, agreeing to his upcoming boyfriendly obligations without his typical hedging, and she'd made up with Serena- albeit with as little actual explanation for her behavior as possible. Her best friend had attempted to do some digging with regards to Chuck, of course, but Blair had shot that line of conversation down with a quickness.

Chuck, meanwhile, had mostly been avoiding her, which helped stave off her crushing sense of humiliation. And Serena had even rebuffed Humphrey's inept attempts at a reunion- a state of affairs which pleased Blair to no end.

Plus, she'd found the perfect dress for tonight yesterday at Bendel's. It was knee-length ivory silk, the strapless bodice overlaid with black lace and curved into a sweetheart neckline. The flared skirt swirled around her slim legs, which were accentuated by black peep-toe pumps, and a long strand of pearls was knotted around her neck, glowing against the black lace.

Tonight was her night, she thought with satisfaction, and everything had turned out flawlessly.

"Step one, cocktails!" Serena declared, beaming with an infectious smile.

She flagged down a passing waiter, who fetched their martinis with almost comical speed, and the two girls settled into the VIP area, chatting happily and holding court over the rest of the party.

"Well, you seem like you're in an awfully good mood. The Humphrectomy seems to have really brightened up your disposition," Blair commented teasingly.

Serena rolled her eyes. "I realize you two don't exactly see eye-to-eye, but he does have plenty of… good qualities, you know."

"Which he's always more than willing to expound upon, in excruciating detail," Blair replied, with an impudent grin. "So… thank you, for sparing me more of that."

Serena laughed and shook her head. "You know, I think you two are a lot more similar than you're willing to admit."

"_That _is the single meanest thing you've ever said to me, Serena van der Woodsen," Blair declared, recoiling in mock horror. "Take it back!"

The two girls dissolved in laughter, pausing only when the waiter reappeared with another round of drinks.

"So," Serena said, leveling a questioning look at Blair. "Are we going to talk about what happened with Chuck?"

Blair sighed in exasperation. "I'm sorry, was there some part of 'never mention it again' that was unclear to you?"

"B..." Serena entreated. "Look, we're supposed to be best friends. Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

The actual answer was that it was too horrible and embarrassing to even admit to herself, Blair thought, fidgeting uncomfortably with the stem of her glass. But given what Serena had witnessed, and the fact that she'd been on the receiving end of multiple Blair Waldorf meltdowns as a result... she probably deserved at least an explanation.

"It's just... it was just a stupid little crush, that's all," she finally replied, staring down into the translucent depths of her cocktail. "I didn't want to talk about it because it's... totally insignificant, and kind of embarrassing, and I'm... taking care of it."

"Taking care of it, as in..." Serena trailed off questioningly.

"As in, I'm taking care of it, so it's no longer a problem," Blair's tone made it clear that the discussion was now over.

"Well, that's a relief," Serena responded dryly. "So you won't care that he's standing over at the bar, watching you like a hawk."

At her words, Blair's gaze jerked upwards and collided with Chuck's, who was observing her stealthily over the rim of his martini glass. She quickly looked back downwards and pretended to smooth some wrinkles out of her skirt.

"Dammit, Serena, now he's going to think we were talking about him," she snapped.

"We _were_ talking about him," Serena pointed out, looking amused.

Blair exhaled loudly. "See, this is why I didn't tell you anything," she declared, with a frosty look in Serena's direction. "What's he even doing here, anyway? I made sure his invitation got accidentally lost in the mail."

She allowed herself one more casual glance in Chuck's direction, appraising the fit of his pin-striped black suit, paired with a white shirt, matching pocket square and black bowtie. It was simple, elegant, and far more restrained than his usual color palate. In fact, she thought, inspecting his shirt more carefully, that wasn't white... it was ecru. Either he'd been stalking her on her shopping trip yesterday or he could read her damn mind.

Looking back at her best friend, who was now observing her with barely concealed mirth, she narrowed her eyes in irritation.

"You need to loosen up a little, B," Serena said. "So you're attracted to him, it's not the worst thing in the world."

"That is _exactly_ what it is, and might I remind you that I have a-"

Blair paused for a second, seeing Nate approach them. "-boyfriend," she finished, lips tilting up in a welcoming smile.

"Hey Nate!" Serena chirped, a bit too brightly.

He smiled in greeting, his gaze shifting between the two of them for a moment.

"Hey sweetie, we were just talking about you," Blair slid over, patting the seat beside her.

"Actually, Blair," He cleared his throat. "Do you want to go check out the view on the other side of the deck? Just, uh... the two of us?"

Brightening at the romantic gesture, Blair rose to her feet and tucked her arm into his. She could feel a set of eyes boring into her back, sending prickles down her spine, but she stubbornly ignored them, smiling up at Nate as they strolled towards the far side of the terrace.

She paused once they reached the railing, admiring the spectacular view as she took a sip of her drink.

"All your hard work must've paid off, the party really turned out great," Nate observed, giving her a little smile.

"It did, didn't it?" Blair sighed happily, letting her gaze draft over the crowd. Chuck, she noticed, was no longer anywhere in sight. The realization produced an odd pang in the pit of her stomach.

Brushing aside her conflicted feelings, she turned back to her boyfriend with a bright smile.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked expectantly.

Nate opened his mouth and then closed it again, turning to look out at the vast cityscape before them.

"Blair-" he began, and then fell silent, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

She felt a familiar feeling of dread creep up inside her. This couldn't be happening again, she thought in dismay. He wouldn't do that to her, not in the middle of her own party.

"I've just been doing some thinking, about... us," he continued, faltering slightly over the words. "And, you know... the future."

Blair nodded, trying to keep her expression composed.

"And..." He hesitated. "You know I love you, Blair, but..." He stopped again, as if he couldn't quite get the words out.

"But you want to break up," she finished for him, the cool tone of her voice betraying nothing of her roiling emotions.

The expression of relief on his face caused an unexpected surge of anger to flood over her. Of _course_ she had to say it for him, she thought disgustedly. God forbid he actually grow a pair for once in his life.

"It's just that... you know, we're so young. Way too young to settle down," he continued earnestly. "And maybe in the future, well... I dunno, but it just seems like maybe we need some time on our own for now."

She nodded again, her face a mask of calm as she absorbed his half-hearted excuses.

"I'm sorry, Blair, you know I would never want to hurt you..." he said apologetically, taking her hand in his own as if to convince her of his sincerity.

Her mind recoiled at his sympathetic tone- he felt _sorry_ for her, he _pitied_ her... just like everyone else at this party would when they found out. Except for the people who hated her- they were eager to see her downfall and would absolutely relish another public embarrassment.

And to think, she'd been considering doing this herself only a week ago. She could've ended things on her own terms, making it clear to everyone how sought-after she was, that any guy would be lucky to be with her. And now, instead, it was Blair Waldorf... rejected, again. Found wanting, inadequate, not good enough... again.

She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears she could feel forming in her eyes.

"Blair..." Nate trailed off, clearly hoping she would say something.

Forcing down all of the hurt, and frustration, and years worth of pent-up rage, she arranged her face into an expression of composure.

"You're right, Nate," she replied calmly, withdrawing her hand from his. "Clearly we've both just been going through the motions for awhile now, and there's no point in dragging it out any further."

"I didn't mean that-" he tried to protest, but she shook her head, a tight smile on her face.

"Really, Nate, it's fine," she responded firmly.

Sadness, regret, and unease comingled across his handsome face as he regarded her for a long moment.

"I was hoping we could still... be friends?" he ventured cautiously.

"Of course," Blair replied with forced breeziness. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a party to host."

With that, she turned and headed back towards the gathering. She forced herself to keep her steps slow and measured, greeting several people with a little wave as she walked by. She just had to keep it together until she could get out of here.

* * *

><p><em>Well take it from me<br>What else could you do  
>Where do you get off<br>And how can I get there, too?_

* * *

><p>Chuck lounged against the outside of the building, staring down at the sidewalk as he took another swig from his flask. He always kept it filled with the finest Macallan or Dalmore, but it might as well have been malt liquor for all he was tasting it.<p>

Allowing his head to fall back against the stone wall, he gazed up at the night sky.

He wasn't sure why he'd even come tonight. Blair clearly hadn't wanted him here, which she'd made obvious by pretending he was invisible while she fawned all over her precious Nate... who was apparently taking the path of least resistance and continuing the devoted boyfriend façade indefinitely. After their conversation the previous night, he'd hoped that Nate might finally take some initiative and make a decision for once... but it was clear his master plan had failed.

It was probably for the best, Chuck thought, taking another swig. He just would've have screwed it all up at the first available opportunity anyway. And this way he was completely unattached and unencumbered, free to pursue any woman who caught his eye.

Sure, he may have spent the last few weeks- or year- obsessing over one woman in particular, but it would pass. It was just an infatuation, his first experience feeling any hint of affection towards a girl he wanted to fuck. And if she was foolish enough to return his feelings…well, he thought, his expression hardening... that probably wouldn't last for long.

The slam of a door roused him from his thoughts, and he was stunned to see Blair stepping through the front door, looking hurriedly back and forth in search of a cab.

Until her gaze fell upon him, and she stopped in her tracks. Outwardly, she looked just as polished and flawless as she always did- every curl in place, every inch of fabric perfectly pressed. But her eyes were wide and shiny with tears, her cheeks flushed with color, and her lips parted slightly as she stared back at him.

"You okay?" he asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

Her eyes trailed over him, taking in every inch of his appearance- from his artfully tousled hair down to his Italian leather shoes. Feeling suddenly discomfited by her scrutiny, he screwed the cap onto his flask and tucked it back into his pocket.

"Nate and I just broke up," she responded distantly, averting her gaze.

Chuck felt a sudden surge of emotions well up inside of him- surprise, sympathy, trepidation, and an unexpected giddiness he fought to keep contained.

"Sorry to hear that," he replied carefully. He studied the emotions flickering across her own expressive face, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Sure you are," she scoffed back, rolling her eyes skyward.

He said nothing in response, his silence acknowledging that accuracy of that statement. He was sorry to see her upset, of course- but sorry that Nate was finally out of the picture? Not even a little bit.

Blair glanced back at him, the flash of hesitancy in her eyes quickly replaced by decisiveness.

"I need a ride home," she declared. She tucked a strand of glossy brown hair behind her ear, only the slight trembling of her fingers betraying any anxiety.

Blinking in surprise, Chuck followed her gaze to his limo, parked a short distance down the block.

"I'm sure Arthur wouldn't mind a brief detour…" he replied, but she'd already turned and started down the sidewalk before he finished speaking.

He shot a glance back at the club's entrance as he followed her, half-expecting Nate to wander out at any moment and put a stop to the inappropriate thoughts running rampant through his mind, probably with a right hook to the face. As he watched the shapely legs of his best friend's ex maneuver their way into his limo, he conceded that he'd probably deserve it.

Chuck settled into the leather seat beside her, unbuttoning his jacket and stretching his legs out in front of him. Clearing his throat- which ended up sounding more nervous than self-assured, as he'd intended- he realized that this was his first chance in almost a year to make a legitimate move on Blair.

It would be crass and presumptuous to move in for the kill immediately, he thought. He could instruct Arthur to take the scenic route, but that would be absurdly transparent. Or he could offer to walk her up to her penthouse, make sure she was alright- but coming from him, such gentlemanly behavior would be… similarly transparent.

How did you approach seduction when you actually wanted the girl to stick around afterwards? He figured they should probably have a conversation about it, or… something.

Pondering this awkward and potentially embarrassing scenario, he chanced a sideways look at Blair, surprised to find her staring right back at him.

They regarded each other for several long seconds. He recognized the longing reflected in those deep brown eyes, mirroring his own, and his breath caught in his throat. When her tongue darted out to moisten her upper lip, his gaze followed the movement, watching in rapt fascination as it traced a wet arc across her mouth.

Then Blair leaned in towards him, and, without a second of hesitation, pressed her lips firmly against his.

Frozen in surprise for only a moment, he recovered quickly, moving his mouth eagerly against hers. When her tongue slid teasingly across his upper lip, he felt the tingling sensation shoot throughout his entire body, his groin tightening immediately in response.

There was nothing timid, or hesitant, or restrained, about this kiss- her tongue invaded his mouth, stroking boldly against his own, as she slid her hand up the back of his neck and grasped at his hair. Stunned and aroused by her aggressiveness, Chuck returned the kiss fervently, wrapping one hand around her waist to draw her closer.

Blair moaned softly into his mouth, intoxicated by the heady scent of his skin and the faint taste of scotch on his tongue. She nibbled impatiently at his lower lip and felt him arch towards hers in response, his hands pulling her almost on top of him in an attempt to press their bodies together.

Emboldened by his eagerness, Blair slid one bare leg over his thighs and lifted herself up over his lap, straddling him. His hands gripped her waist, pressing her against the hardness in the front of his trousers and rocking their hips together in an erotic rhythm. One hand still tangled in his hair, she grasped the side of his jaw with the other, angling his head to the side to capture his mouth again in a deep, hungry kiss.

Their mouths broke contact long enough to take several deep, panting breaths, as they regarded each other with unabashed want.

She'd been fighting this desire for so long that the freedom to finally indulge it felt positively exhilarating. Tonight, she felt uninhibited, desired, willing to take exactly what she wanted without regard to the consequences. She had a craving, and she was going to make damn sure it got satisfied.

"Just one night," she murmured again his lips. "That's all I need."

Although Chuck was quickly becoming too aroused to think straight, her words managed to penetrate his foggy brain. Pulling his mouth a few inches away from hers, he took several deep breaths as he tried to recover some sort of mental equilibrium.

"Blair-" he managed to get out, before he was silenced by another passionate kiss. Distracted by her mouth for a few moments, he finally managed to drag his lips away once again.

"Blair, I think we should talk-"

He was cut off again- this time by her finger pressed firmly against his mouth, dragging ever so slowly down across his lower lip.

"No talking," she whispered, in a determined, bossy tone that sent a rush of blood straight to his groin. She leaned down over him, pressing her lips against his neck and moving up towards his jaw with slow, lingering kisses.

His brain made one last feeble protest, a niggling voice in the back of his head reminding him that things remained unsettled between them.

Then he felt her tongue trace along the shell of his ear, her hot breath leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She sank her teeth into his earlobe while she rolled her hips against his lap, and the crisscrossing of pain and pleasure circuits caused a helpless groan to escape his throat.

At this point, his brain was officially no longer in control of the situation.

Almost of their own volition, his hands slid up the satiny skin of her legs and his fingers gripped into her thighs. The ivory fabric of her skirt draped over him in a silky pool as his hands moved further underneath it. When he reached her hips, he traced the delicate lace of her thong around to her back, cupping her bare ass in his palms and kneading it firmly.

Blair purred into his ear in response, rubbing herself against him with a torturous full-body grind, and he felt his arousal escalate to near-hazardous levels. Desperate to feel her bare skin against his own, he moved his hands up to roam across the back of her bodice and pulled at the lace overlay with uncharacteristic impatience.

She made an amused noise, the sound vibrating against his neck- and reaching back, guided his hands to the hidden zipper on the side of her dress. He wasted no time pulling the metal tab downward, his fingers trailing over the newly exposed flesh, before dragging the entire mess of fabric over her head and tossing it haphazardly across the limo.

Leaning back slightly in his lap, she looked down at him with a hot, enticing stare.

And Chuck paused, taking a moment to appreciate what was most assuredly the sexiest thing he'd ever seen in his life- Blair Waldorf, straddling his lap in nothing but a very revealing lingerie set, disheveled curls cascading around her bare shoulders, lips red and swollen from kissing him. Her creamy breasts spilling temptingly out of her lacy black bra, a knotted strand of pearls nestled seductively between them. The scant triangle of fabric between her legs, translucent material barely concealing the wispy curls beneath.

"See something you want?" she murmured, her hand stroking down his chest.

"Very much," he managed to get out, grabbing her hips to pull her against him- but she braced her hands on the seat behind his head, teasingly holding her body at a distance.

"How much?" she asked archly.

Chuck exhaled slowly, taking one more lingering glance over her impossibly gorgeous body.

"So fucking much, Blair, you have no idea," he responded in a husky voice, sliding his hands up from her waist to palm her breasts. He leaned forward, pressing a trail of kisses across one- "how goddamn sexy you are"- and then the other- "and how badly I want to fuck you right now"- massaging both with his hands, he gently pinched her nipples through the lace, humming in satisfaction at her throaty gasp.

Reaching around her back, Chuck deftly unhooked and discarded her bra. And this time she didn't resist when he pulled her forward- kissing, licking, and then sucking each taut bud in turn, rewarded by her breathy little moans of pleasure.

When he finally came up for air, Blair was pulling off his jacket, unraveling his bowtie and tugging impatiently at the buttons of his shirt.

"Whoa there, Waldorf," he said with mock annoyance, in between hasty, fervent kisses. "I like this shirt."

Finally conquering the buttons, she ran her hands down his bare chest, feeling him hiss against her mouth when she dug in with her nails.

"And these pants?" she asked seductively, yanking open his trousers with no regard to buttons or zippers. "Do you like them too?"

Blair stroked him through the thin silk of his boxers, watching in satisfaction as his eyes fluttered closed.

"No, the pants can go," he replied hoarsely, feeling himself flex against her hand. A moment later, she'd pulled his boxers out of the way as well, leaving only the barest scrap of fabric separating them.

As their mouths met once more in a heated kiss, their hands feverishly exploring every inch of each other's exposed skin, he could feel how wet she was against him- and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not just push her little thong aside and plunge himself into her. He clenched his jaw as she rubbed herself against him, moaning into his mouth at the pleasurable friction.

Knowing he couldn't hold back much longer, he fumbled blindly for his jacket, retrieving a condom from the inside pocket. Barely swallowing back a moan as she circled him with her hand, stroking along his rigid length, he managed to tear open the package and slip it on in record time.

As Chuck shuddered against her and tightened his hands around her hips, trying desperately to stay in control of himself, Blair felt a surge of gratification course through her. Kissing her way down along his jawline, she sucked lightly on his neck, delighting in the sound of his breath catching in his throat and the feel of his pulse beating erratically against her tongue.

Then, with unexpected speed, he slid his fingers underneath the lacy edge of her thong, ripping the flimsy fabric off in one swift motion. And when he positioned himself at her entrance, she gripped onto the leather seat back and sank down onto his cock.

Gasping against his neck at the sensation of him filling her so completely, she remained still for just a moment, feeling him throb inside her.

"Fuck Blair, you feel so good," he groaned.

Blair pulled back slightly to see him watching her with half-closed eyes, an expression of barely-restrained lust on his face. God, she could never get enough of him looking her like that, she thought. She slipped her hands under his open shirt to grip his shoulders and began riding him in a vigorous rhythm. Angling her pelvis to give herself the stimulation she needed, she whimpered at the resulting currents of pleasure coursing through her body, the aching need that deepened with every stroke.

As he thrust his hips up to meet her, Chuck felt the last vestiges of his control begin to slip away. Her taut body moving over him, her nails digging sharply into her shoulders, her hot, slick channel sliding up and down on his cock, were all causing the pressure inside him to build to an unbearable degree. Massaging her breasts with both hands and feeling them bounce against his palms, he gritted his teeth in one last desperate attempt to stave off his release.

But when he watched Blair throw her head back, her breathy whimpers turning into cries of ecstasy, he knew he was lost. He grasped her hips and thrust forcefully into her, the tension inside him finally boiling over in an intense surge of pleasure. It swelled and deepened, rolling over every inch of his body as he shuddered helplessly against her.

He could feel her inner muscles spasm around him as she rode out her orgasm, her nails digging sharply into his flesh, her thighs clenching his hips in a vise-like grip. Groaning her name, he jerked into her with one last deep thrust. Their trembling bodies still entwined, they collapsed together back onto the seat.

_Holy shit_, he thought, through a fog of post-coital bliss. This was, without a doubt, the best feeling he'd ever experienced in his entire life. The slight weight of Blair's body rested on him, her slim thighs still encircling his hips. He nuzzled against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair, the natural fragrance of her skin, the undeniable aroma of sex that still hung heavy in the air.

Blair slowly regained her senses to find herself draped across Chuck's torso. She could feel the steady rhythm of his warm breath against her shoulder and his heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rate against her chest. She lay against him, limp as a ragdoll, overwhelmed by a hazy feeling of contentedness.

That is, until her brain started functioning again, and reminded her of what, exactly, she'd just done.

_Holy shit_, she realized. She'd just thrown herself at Chuck with all the subtlety of a drunk stripper giving a lap dance. He probably would've tucked dollar bills into her g-string if she hadn't been pinning him to the seat the entire time. All he wanted from her was sex, and she'd gone ahead and served it up to him on a silver platter.

Feeling her face flush red with mortification, she further realized that she was in a very compromising position- her arms wrapped around his shoulders, face buried against his neck, straddling his lap with him… still inside of her- from which there was no graceful escape route.

Then she felt his hands, which had previously been resting slackly on her hips, slide around to her backside and press her pelvis into his one more time, the motion sending an unexpected aftershock of pleasure throbbing through her body.

At that moment, the limo rolled to a stop in front of her penthouse, and she realized this might be her only chance at a dignified exit. Disentangling herself from him in one swift motion, she slid down the side bench and started gathering the scattered remnants of her clothing.

Well, most of it anyway, she thought, eying the torn scrap of black lace on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Chuck murmured, following her movements with half-lidded eyes.

"Going home," Blair replied, as if it were patently obvious. She hooked her bra in back, shaking out her dress before tugging it down over her head.

A sudden wave of frustration roused Chuck out of his blissful daze. She couldn't just leave like this, he thought- not again. She was supposed to want to stay, and talk, and do… whatever it is people do when they... want to be with someone. Fuck if he knew what that was, but he'd never get a chance to find out if she just bolted.

Watching her zip up her dress with an increasing sense of alarm, he realized she would be gone in about ten seconds unless he did something to stop her. Chuck fumbled to fasten his pants, and then slid down the seat to where she was hastily maneuvering into her heels.

"Hey, what's the rush?" he asked softly, covering her hand with his own to still her movements.

"We agreed this was only one night," she reminded him, her eyes averted.

He'd agreed to no such thing- but even though her words stung him, he wasn't about to give up that easily. As long as she didn't leave, he still had a chance to convince her.

"And _that_," he replied, "was only… twenty minutes." Cupping her chin in his hand and tilting it towards him, he pressed a trail of kisses along the line of her jaw. "So you owe me…" he whispered into her ear, "the rest of the night."

As his mouth made its way down her neck, his tongue darting out to taste the beads of perspiration on her skin, she felt an undeniable shiver of arousal ripple through her body.

"So what do you say we relocate to somewhere more… comfortable?" he murmured, sliding his hands around her hips to pull her closer.

Well, that did sound… so very tempting, she thought. If it was just for one night, she might as well make the most of it.

Meeting his mouth in a hot, sensual kiss, she let her body melt into his once again.

After all, there'd be plenty of time to start avoiding him tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, hopefully this chapter made all of your wildest dreams come true. I'm pretty sure Chuck's did... at least for now. Anyway, since writing smut is super hard (blame my uptight Puritan upbringing), I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thanks, as always, to my beta, co-conspirator, and partner-in-bitchery Terrabeth, who's managed to improve my writing immeasurably- often despite my own stubborn resistance.

And since my plans to reply individually to reviews have gone from "procrastinating" to "failing miserably", I wanted to recognize the wonderful people who've taken the time to leave me such lovely feedback on the last two chapters, I appreciate each and every one of you: tiff xoxo, Sally, Natalie2010, YasminY, 88Mary88, Kadlin, Temp02, notoutforawalk, katharienne, Shop247, GGfan73104, maryl, 13maggi13, D, Arazadia, mlharper, ellibells, flipped, Rossiee, Anon, ggloverxx19, chaval, LadyB, annablake, ana, 24hrscout, Abby, Ladynet, dreamgurl, Krazy4Spike, livelybass, CBfanhere, andi, LeftWriter224, Terrabeth, cb, fiona249, jsta, and last but most definitely not least, Noirreigne.


	13. Still Not a Player

.

**Chapter 13: Still Not a Player**

_I don't wanna be a player no more__  
><em>_(I'm not a player, I just fuck a lot)_

_-Big Punisher_

Drifting leisurely into wakefulness, Blair became aware of a warm, hard body curled up behind her and a muscular arm wrapped around her waist. She allowed herself a moment to simply relax and enjoy the sensation- the slow, deep breaths stirring the curls at the nape of her neck, the steady thump of a heartbeat against her back... and the smooth expanse of bare skin pressed against her own.

Until the realization that she was actually _spooning_ with Chuck Bass rocketed her sex-addled brain back to reality.

Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times, taking in her surroundings- gold wallpaper, decorated with an elegant scrollwork pattern, ornate ivory molding, mahogany furniture. She could see discarded shoes and clothes strewn across the plush carpeting, forming a trail leading from the door to the bed. Her beaded clutch, thankfully, was sitting on the nightstand, and her dress had been neatly laid out across the gilt-trimmed chaise lounge.

Blair had to admit that the entire night had been nothing short of amazing- and she was finding it hard to muster up any sense of regret when she just wanted to stretch out like a cat and purr in contentment. Actually _sleeping_ with Chuck was a new experience for her. During their brief tryst the previous year, they'd never spent an entire night together, never even dozed off in each other's presence. There was something decidedly intimate about it, she thought, feeling the continuous rise and fall of his chest against her body... and fighting the creepy stalkerish impulse to roll over and watch him sleep.

But now there was sunlight streaming in through the blinds, and the night had officially come to an end. With any luck, her getaway would be stealthier this time around- Chuck had misinterpreted her crawling over his body in the middle of the night as an invitation to round three, and since he apparently went from asleep to horny in under five seconds, he'd taken her up on it... quite enthusiastically.

Carefully lifting his arm up off her waist, she scooted across the mattress, listening for any variation in his breathing that might indicate he was waking up.

But she hadn't even made it to the edge of the bed when his arm snaked around her hips, reeling her body firmly back against his.

"Where do you think you're going?" Chuck murmured into her ear, his sleepy voice causing a little shiver to run down the back of her neck.

"Home," she replied coolly.

She tried to put some distance between them, but he loosened his hold on her just enough to stroke his fingers gently across her stomach.

"Why?" He yawned, and she found it inexplicably adorable.

"Because it's morning."

"So?" His lips pressed against her neck- that spot he'd discovered right below her ear- and Blair was unable to suppress a little quiver of excitement.

"So... it's time for me to leave," she said, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.

His mouth continued working its way down, pausing when he came across another sensitive spot and she arched her neck back.

"Maybe I don't want you to leave," he replied in a low voice.

There was something about the way Chuck said it that caught Blair off guard, an undertone of quiet sincerity that made her wonder if he might be referring to more than just his bed.

"We agreed on one night," she reminded him, trying to ignore the foolish hopefulness that had just sprung up inside her.

"I never agreed to that," he countered softly.

He pulled her backside more snugly against him and she inhaled in surprise, realizing he was already hard. She flushed as she felt her own body start to respond instinctively.

"Besides... we're right in the middle of something," he whispered, his fingers trailing down across her bare thighs.

"But I'm all... dirty," she complained, flushing again when she felt him smirk against her neck.

"I'll say," he chuckled. Grasping her waist, he rolled her over so they were facing each other, only inches apart, and pressed his mouth to hers in a long, lingering kiss.

"I'm serious, I need a toothbrush," she insisted, turning her head to the side when he moved in for another kiss.

"Your mouth tastes fine to me." He gave her that naughty little grin that had always made her melt.

"I need a shower too," she added, stubbornly refusing to meet his mouth. He shrugged, returning his lips to her neck.

"Well, this part is still delicious," he murmured against her skin. "I'll have to check them all though, just to be sure..."

"Chuck!" She smacked him lightly on the arm, but couldn't prevent the giggle that escaped her lips.

Her stomach chose that moment to emit an extended, audible grumble, no doubt protesting her "skip dinner to make up for the martini calories" strategy.

"I'm also a little hungry," she admitted primly.

"Come on, Waldorf, you can't lob them right over the plate like that." He chuckled, placing one last kiss on her collarbone before reaching across her towards the phone on the nightstand.

He kept his body angled over hers while he pressed the room service button and requested breakfast. And when he hung up, he stayed exactly where he was, propped up on his forearms on top of her.

"So since your hunger will be imminently... satiated-" he began, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"How will they even know what to bring? All you did was ask for 'breakfast'-" Blair interrupted, attempting to look anywhere but at him. Escape attempt number two was not going well at all, she decided- although she was starting to think a postponement might be in order.

"Oh, they bring everything when I do that, just to be safe," he grinned. "Now- how to keep ourselves occupied in the meantime..."

He stared down at her with a hint of a smirk, and she found herself temporarily mesmerized by his gaze. She'd always thought his eyes were just regular brown like her own, but in the morning sunlight, they looked almost amber, sort of a light brown background with gold flecks. Or maybe they were hazel? She thought she could see a hint of green in there as well. And he had such nice long lashes, for a guy. They swept downwards, as his eyes traced down the length of her body before lifting up to meet her gaze once again.

Oh, this was not good.

She'd just spent a full minute staring into Chuck Bass's eyes, trying to decide what color they were. Jesus Christ, one night in bed together and she was practically drawing cartoon hearts with his initials inside them. Some sort of... female hormone imbalance must be responsible for this, she decided.

"So... about that shower..." He regarded her with a playful grin. "There's only one, so I'm afraid you'll have to share."

Pushing himself up off the bed, he sauntered over towards the closet... completely nude, and without an ounce of self-consciousness. Attempting to maintain some sense of modesty, Blair pulled the top sheet tightly across her chest, and willed herself to look at something- _anything_- besides his naked backside.

But her eyes apparently had a will of their own, and she soon found herself studying the long, lean contours of his body with shameless interest. He obviously hadn't spent much time in the sun, since his skin was almost as pale as hers. And he lacked Nate's well-developed physique, although she could see the muscles working in his shoulders as he searched through the row of hanging clothes. There was just something about him, though... he exuded a certain charisma, an innate... magnetism, almost, that she couldn't even put into words. All she knew was that it made her want to do very bad things to him.

And she already had, from the look of it. Traces of lipstick were still visible on his neck, and two sets of red nail marks marred his back, forming parallel tracks across his shoulder blades. Her mouth went dry as she recalled, in vivid detail, what she'd done to produce those.

Chuck slipped into a purple silk robe, tying it snugly around his waist before turning back towards her.

"Did you want one, or were just going to wear that sheet?" he asked wryly, his eyes flickering down to the white swath of fabric clenched tightly against her chest.

"I would... appreciate something to wear, yes," she responded coolly.

He tossed her a matching black robe and watched as she glanced at it, then down at her own state of undress, then back at him with an arched eyebrow. Rolling his eyes in amusement, he turned around to give her some privacy.

Quickly slipping out of the sheet and into her robe, she mentally instructed herself to maintain her composure. She just had to act casual, breezy- like she had one-night-stands all the time. Of course, this was Chuck, and he knew damn well that wasn't the case, but... if she did a believable job of faking it, hopefully he wouldn't notice that the 12-year-old-girl region of her brain had started bombarding her with infatuation signals.

"Did you seriously give me the black one, and keep the purple for yourself?" she asked mockingly, eying his flamboyant attire.

"What? It's my favorite." He shrugged. Heading towards the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, "I'll go get the water... warmed up for you."

The second Chuck disappeared from sight, she lunged for her clutch on the nightstand, retrieving her compact. Well, it wasn't... that bad, she concluded, surveying her reflection in the tiny mirror. Most of her makeup had rubbed off, but her lips and cheeks still had a nice rosy tinge to them. And thankfully, her waterproof mascara was holding up nicely... but something would have to be done about her hair, she decided, eying the rumpled curls.

A few minutes with the comb and hair clip she always carried, and her hair was neatly gathered into a knot at the back of her head. She teased a few curly tendrils out around the sides, carefully framing her face, and scrambled off the bed towards the bathroom. She definitely didn't want him to think she'd been primping- that just reeked of trying too hard.

But when she entered the bathroom, that was exactly what she found him doing- leaning over the sink and assessing his reflection with pursed lips while he finger-combed his hair. Their eyes met in the mirror and he grinned impishly.

"Um..." Blair furrowed her brow in confusion, surveying the jasmine-scented bubbles slowly filling the whirlpool tub behind him. "You do understand the difference between a bath and a shower?"

"I do." He eyed her with amusement. "But you look like you could use some... relaxation."

"A bath isn't going to get you any less clean than a shower, Waldorf," he continued when she opened her mouth to protest.

She sighed in concession, taking a swallow of the Listerine he offered and swishing it around in her mouth.

"And I know you don't have any of your... naughty romance novels here," he added suggestively. "But I'll do my best to make up for that."

Blair almost choked on the minty liquid, her cheeks reddening uncontrollably. Which was ridiculous, she reminded herself- sex-related embarrassment around Chuck Bass was just plain illogical. She leaned forward, expelling her mouthwash into the sink in the most ladylike manner possible.

When she straightened, she found him watching her intently, propping himself against the counter beside her with one arm.

"I do so enjoy making you blush," he said softly, trailing one finger against her warm cheek. Her eyes drifted closed while his hand traced a path along the side of her neck, sending a frisson of excitement down her spine.

In one smooth movement, Chuck shifted to stand behind her, bracing his arms on both sides and effectively trapping her body between him and the sink. Blair stiffened as she felt the heat of his body through the thin silk, her eyes fluttering open to meet his in the mirror.

He held her gaze for a long moment before ducking his head down to press his lips against the nape of her neck.

"Did you put your hair up just to tease me?" he murmured against her skin.

"Seems like it doesn't take much to tease you, Bass," she responded, trying to keep her voice steady as she felt his tongue lightly stroke the sensitive flesh.

"True." He moved his hands to clasp her waist, caressing her hipbones as his mouth continued its exploration. "I have... no control over myself around you."

Her insides vibrated with an odd quivering sensation, which she tried desperately to suppress. After all, she thought, nothing would be more embarrassing than mistaking standard Chuck Bass dirty talk for... anything more than that.

His hands tightened around her hips and pulled them back into his own, grinding himself against her backside. She gasped softly, gripping the edge of the counter to steady herself.

"Do you have any idea..." he continued in a husky voice, pausing to kiss his up the column of her neck. "How long I've wanted you?"

Blair shook her head almost imperceptibly, her eyes glued to the reflection in front of her- his mouth savoring the soft skin just below her ear, his hands dwarfing her narrow waist, the expression on her own face as she responded to his ministrations.

"Years," he whispered against her ear, as if divulging his deepest, most intimate secret.

And suddenly, all of the suggestive comments, heated glances, and supposedly inadvertent touches that had passed between them over the years began to coalesce in her mind- and that hidden, vulnerable part of her heart thrilled at the possibility that he'd been secretly longing for this, for her, all this time. As he painted lingering, almost reverent kisses along the side of her jaw, she felt the fluttering in her stomach start to spiral out of control.

His hands slid upwards, tracing along the lapels of her robe. Hooking his fingers under the edge, he drew the silken folds open, baring her breasts. She felt his knuckles graze against the outer swells as he trailed back down, and her back arched in response to the teasing caress.

Chuck smiled, that satisfied little grin that she usually wanted to slap right off his smug face- but at the moment, she figured kissing it off would work just as well.

Blair made a move to turn around and do exactly that, but his hands tightened around her waist.

"Uh-uh." He nuzzled against her cheek. "I want to watch."

Reaching up to cup her breasts, he captured her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, massaging them with gentle, teasing flicks until they tightened into stiff buds. And she followed his movements through half-lidded eyes, waiting for the surge of self-consciousness that never materialized. Instead she felt a surge of moisture between her legs, her body responding to both his touch and the undeniably erotic experience of watching him do it.

Raising his head from her neck, he met her gaze in the mirror. His eyes looked much darker now, Blair thought, more of a burnt caramel color, and they were studying her with an almost greedy intensity. Lost in that look for a moment, she didn't even notice him tugging open the belt of her robe until she felt a rush of air against her bare skin.

"Mmm." Chuck made a noise of approval as his hands skimmed over her curves, sliding the swath of silk out of his path.

He lightly caressed her taut inner thighs before moving up to run his fingers through the moist curls between them. Exploring lower, he parted the slick, velvety petals, capturing some of the moisture before returning to massage the swollen nub at their apex. Her hips bucked involuntarily against his hand, rocking against his hand in a slow, rhythmic motion.

He returned to kissing her neck, more aggressively this time, his teeth scraping against her delicate skin. She watched the movements of his mouth, his hands, the contrast of his dark hair and the black silk against the pale creaminess of her skin. And she watched her lips part to emit a soft whimper, her eyelids fluttering half-closed as his fingers continued their sweet, tormenting strokes.

God, he could just take her right here, she thought, her knuckles trembling with the effort of holding herself steady.

Through a haze of arousal, Blair suddenly noticed a mountain of bubbles expanding rapidly in the background.

"Chuck," she gasped- which only caused him to increase his tempo, momentarily distracting her with a wave of pleasure.

"Chuck... the tub's overflowing," she finally got out.

She instantly regretted doing so when he pulled away, leaving her all... hot and bothered. She turned to see him grab for the tap, turning it off just as water was starting to spill out over the floor. The billowing white mound of bubbles now reached several feet into the air.

"Guess I got a little distracted," he offered, turning back to her with a wry grin. It soon faded as he took in her curves- which were, for all intents and purposes, completely exposed.

"Now... where were we?" He stepped back towards her, eying her body as if it were a tasty dessert.

Backing her up against the counter, he captured her mouth with a passionate kiss, and within seconds, all thoughts of a bath had been completely forgotten. The satiny fabric of his robe caressed her bare flesh as she pressed herself into him, reveling in the heat and the hardness of his body. Sliding her arms around his waist, she gripped his ass with both hands, insistently pulling his hips against hers. Rewarded with a low moan of approval, her hands continued their exploration of his silk-covered backside.

Until they were interrupted once more, this time by a series of sharp knocks ringing through the suite.

"Breakfast," he mumbled against her lips, and Blair whined in disappointment when he pulled away again.

"Well, what kind of host would I be if I allowed you to go hungry?" he asked in a teasing tone, chuckling when she narrowed her eyes at him.

"The kind who has a more... enjoyable task at hand?" she replied archly, as she slid her hands down to the knot holding his robe closed.

"Well, they always send up whipped cream and chocolate sauce with the crepes," he said, stroking his thumb across her lower lip. "I think we could find something... entertaining to do with that, don't you?"

He regarded her for one long moment, his face looking more relaxed and open than she could ever remember seeing it. This playful, happy side of him was so new, and so charming, just being around him was starting to feel addictive.

"I'll be right back," he said finally, leaning in for one more kiss. "And don't you dare put any clothes on while I'm gone," he tossed over his shoulder as he exited the bathroom.

Blair turned back to towards the mirror, pressing her palms against her flushed cheeks. She tied her robe closed- loosely- and attempted to steady herself with a deep breath, surveying her swollen lips and feverishly bright eyes in the mirror.

She'd almost certainly lost her mind, she thought. She'd just spent the entire night- and now probably half the morning- sexing up Chuck Bass like it was her job. And not only did she not regret a second of it, she was starting to wonder if maybe this infatuation of hers might be a little bit mutual. There was something about the way he looked at her, with this single-minded intensity... like nothing else even existed. And no one had ever looked at her like that before.

Was she completely crazy to think that this might be more than just sex? Maybe. But she couldn't deny that she was... visibly glowing, and her heart was skipping along at a completely unnatural rate. Besides, she sure as hell wanted to find out what he had planned with the breakfast toppings. In the meantime, though, she should probably deal with this tub situation, she thought, eying the dangerously overfilled bubble bath.

Sitting down on the marble ledge, she began groping around for the drain, smiling to herself as she imagined how much fun they could have in here later.

* * *

><p>Chuck strode through the living room at a quick pace, anxious to return to their rendezvous. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror over the bar and paused, taking a moment to tuck his visible erection discreetly under the belt of his robe.<p>

Pulling open the door, he moved aside to make room for the cart.

And every ounce of blood drained from his face when he saw his best friend stepping over the threshold.

"Hey man," Nate greeted him casually, wandering into the center of the room. "We still on for brunch?"

Momentarily frozen in panic, Chuck turned to follow him, his mind racing a mile a minute. _Brunch?_ When did they make brunch plans?

They did usually eat together on Saturday morning- then again, Nate was also usually passed out on his sofa on Saturday morning, so it wasn't so much a standing date as... what just ended up happening.

Clearing his throat, he tried to improvise his way out of this situation.

"_Nathaniel_. How's it going?" he responded, hoping his voice was loud enough for Blair to hear. The last thing he needed was her walking out in a bathrobe.

"Pretty great, actually," Nate took a seat on the sofa. "What happened to you last night, anyway? You left the party early."

"Oh, I just..." Chuck faltered. "Had somewhere I needed to be."

"Ah, booty call, gotcha." Nate nodded knowingly.

"Uh... yeah, something like that," Chuck replied, averting his eyes.

"Anyway, I wanted to thank you for your advice," Nate continued, oblivious to his friend's discomfort.

"My advice?" Chuck furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Yeah, you know, that talk we had about Blair," Nate clarified. "You were totally right about breaking up with her, man. Being in a relationship really was just... tying me down."

"Uh..." Chuck glanced towards the bathroom door, his eyes widening in alarm. "I don't think those were my... exact words..." He lowered his voice, hoping it would prompt his friend to follow suit.

"Yeah, your exact words were that I shouldn't be sitting around playing husband when I could be out playing the field," Nate reminded him. "And you were right! I mean, I'm only seventeen, I shouldn't be settling down yet."

If anything, his voice sounded even louder, Chuck thought, his anxiety and irritation growing by the minute.

"So anyway, I ended things with Blair last night," Nate continued, and then paused, looking at him expectantly.

There was a moment of silence before Chuck realized he was supposed to respond.

"Oh... you did?" He failed miserably at sounding surprised, but fortunately that wasn't the sort of thing Nate picked up on.

"She seemed like she was okay with it though," Nate went on, a hint of contrition in his voice. "Hopefully we can all still hang out without it being... awkward."

Oh, awkward didn't even begin to cover it, Chuck thought to himself.

"Well, that's…good," he offered.

"Better than good, man. It's gonna be an awesome year," Nate said with an enthusiastic grin. "No commitments, no responsibilities- just you and me, living it up."

"Absolutely," Chuck murmured, wondering how on earth guilt had ended up in the trainwreck of reactions he was currently experiencing.

"Oh, and now that I don't have to go to this silly... dinner thing," Nate waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "I'm free for the party at Victrola tonight."

"Fantastic. Wouldn't have been a party without you," Chuck replied distractedly.

Under normal circumstances, figuring out a way to get rid of Nate would've been no problem, but his brain didn't seem to be functioning correctly. He supposed he could fake a family emergency phone call- except he didn't have his phone. Or pretend to have an important prior engagement- but what did he ever have to do at noon on a weekend that was actually important?

At this point, he was ready to fake a seizure if it would get him out of his conversation.

Another brisk knock interrupted his muddled strategizing. Breakfast, he thought with annoyance, heading towards the door. If only it had arrived five minutes earlier-he wouldn't have even answered the goddamn door for Nate.

Chuck opened the door to reveal not one, but three carts of food being wheeled into his suite.

Nate raised his eyebrows as the uniformed waiters lined the carts up next to the bar, nodded at Chuck politely, and quickly left the suite.

"Dude, how hungry _are_ you?" he asked with a laugh.

At a momentary loss for words, Chuck shot a quick glance towards the bedroom.

Following his glance, Nate managed, for once in his life, to add two and two together and actually come up with four.

"Oh, do you have... company?" he asked, a look of understanding crossing his face. He rose quickly to his feet, shaking his head sheepishly. "Sorry man, I didn't realize... usually you send them home by now."

"Yeah, well..." Chuck shrugged with forced nonchalance. "I do make exceptions."

"Well, must've been some night, you've still got lipstick on your neck," Nate commented, grinning knowingly.

Chuck smiled weakly in response.

"Alright man, enjoy your breakfast, and your… you know. I'll catch up with you later." And with a friendly clap on Chuck's shoulder, he left.

After pausing a moment to make sure he was in the clear, Nate-wise anyway, Chuck strode towards the bedroom door, hoping desperately that it was better-insulated than he suspected.

The second he entered, however, he knew he'd been hoping in vain.

Blair was already fully-dressed, her formerly disheveled curls tied back tightly from her face, and she was frantically stuffing things into her purse.

"Blair-" he began apologetically, but was stopped short by her furious glare.

"Don't even bother," she bit out, grabbing her shoe from where it lay next to the nightstand and looking around for its mate.

"Will you let me explain?" he tried again, cringing inwardly at the pleading sound of his voice.

"Explain what, exactly?" she snapped. "How you convinced my boyfriend to dump me?"

Chuck opened his mouth to respond, but she was brandishing her shoe at him heel-first, and for a moment he feared she might actually stab him with it.

"And then _lied_ to me about it? _Tricked_ me into sleeping with you?" she continued, trembling with rage. "What, was this all some big _joke_ to you?"

"No, that's not what happened, Blair, just listen to me-"

He could tell his words were falling on deaf ears as she continued searching for her shoe, eventually spotting it at the foot of his dresser.

Chuck got there first, grabbing the black pump and holding it out of her reach.

"What, you're going to keep me here by holding my shoe hostage?" She snorted.

"Just hear me out," he said insistently. And after a full ten seconds of mutinous glaring, Blair conceded, folding her arms across her chest and looking anything but open-minded about his explanation.

"Nate told me he was going to break up with you at the end of the year," he explained. "So instead of letting him... string you along, I just talked him into... doing it now instead."

"By pointing out how tedious and awful it is to date me," Blair concluded, the anger in her voice not dissipating in the slightest.

"But I didn't... mean it," Chuck responded, fully aware of how implausible that probably sounded. "Blair, I was just..." he trailed off, searching for the right words. "I was trying to help you."

"Help me?" Her nostrils flared as she regarded him with icy fury. "So you were doing me a _favor_ by telling my boyfriend that I'm ruining his life?"

"Blair, I don't think that," he insisted, the frustration growing evident in his voice. "I just wanted to get Nate... out of the way."

"So you could sleep with me," she finished for him.

"Not... just that," Chuck countered, wondering how on earth he could admit what he actually wanted while she was staring daggers at him.

"Did it even occur to you," she asked, suddenly sounding eerily calm, "to just tell me what he said? And then let me decide what to do?"

It hadn't, admittedly. But he probably wouldn't have considered it anyway, given the chances of that tactic working out in his favor.

"Of course not." Blair shook her head with a humorless laugh. "You just figured you'd manipulate everyone around you, like pawns in a chess game. Just like you did with Carter last year."

"I didn't..." Chuck trailed off, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"But since you already got what you wanted," she continued frostily. "I'd appreciate it if you'd return my shoe so I can commence my walk of shame."

"That's not what I wanted," Chuck insisted, his jaw tensing in annoyance. "Goddammit, Blair, why are you always so determined to think the worst of me?"

"Maybe because you keep _proving me right_," she shot back.

Silence fell between them, and he felt the animosity start welling up inside him at the unfairness of her accusations.

"All you do is use and manipulate people, Chuck," she said bitterly. "I shouldn't even be surprised by it anymore."

"You think _I'm_ the manipulative one?" Chuck scoffed. "You've been using me to make your boyfriend jealous since the day I came back. And then you used me for sex five seconds after he broke up with you, _again_. And somehow I'msupposed to be the one at fault here?"

"Oh please, like anyone could ever use you for sex. Screwing people and screwing people over are pretty much your defining character traits," Blair retorted scornfully.

"Well if you think I'm so horrible, what the fuck are you even doing here?" he snapped. "I didn't ask you to jump into my lap last night."

She recoiled slightly, and he felt a pang of remorse.

"Consider it a momentary lapse of judgment," she replied haughtily. "I'm plainly not in my right mind when I've been drinking."

And with that, the pang was gone- replaced by a burning feeling of resentment at being treated, once again, like a shameful mistake.

"As far as I can tell, it's pretty much the _only_ time you're in your right mind," Chuck replied cuttingly. "Because the rest of the time, you're panting after Nate like a lovesick puppy. And you wonder why I didn't just tell you what he said and expect you to deal with it?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Because you would've done the same goddamn thing you always do- run back to him, not caring if you make a fool out of yourself in the process."

Blair flinched, her entire body stiffening in response.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she replied tightly.

"What can I say, you just keep _proving me right_," he retorted, infusing the words with all the nastiness he could muster.

A moment of silence fell between them as the two stared each other down- his eyes smoldering with anger, hers reflecting back an emotion he couldn't quite fathom.

"Maybe I _am_ a fool," she said quietly. "Because I was stupid enough to think that you might feel the same way about me as I did about you."

He felt the breath catch in his throat at her admission- and then the bottom drop out of his stomach when he saw the shimmer of moisture in her eyes. Rubbing one hand across his face, he tried to figure out how everything had gone downhill so fast, and how he could possibly salvage it.

But while he was distracted, Blair snatched her shoe out of his other hand, and was out the door before he even knew what hit him.

"Blair," he entreated, following her out of the bedroom. "_Blair_," he called after her one last time as she opened the front door, but she slammed it behind her on her way out.

Cursing, he slumped down onto the sofa.

* * *

><p>Serena strolled down Fifth Avenue, cappuccinos and croissants in hand, pausing briefly to check her watch again. It was already noon, so Blair had to be awake by now, she thought. Even if she was too upset to get out of bed... or answer her phone, evidently.<p>

Serena had tried calling as soon as she realized Blair had left the party, but the line had gone straight to voicemail four times in a row. Then when she'd confronted Nate, he'd admitted that they'd broken up, _again_. Even though it was a long time coming, she was sure her best friend could use some support right now. Brunch and an afternoon movie marathon seemed like the perfect way to start.

Stepping into the elevator, Serena retrieved her phone from the brightly-patterned satchel slung over her shoulder.

Still no messages from Blair.

Or Dan, she noted with an involuntary pang of disappointment. Well, it wasn't like she expected him to chase after her and try to win her back or anything. Maybe send flowers… or one of those sonnets he used to write about her, full of overwrought metaphors and allusions to Pre-Raphaelite poetry.

They were silly poems, anyway, filled with glowing descriptions of her hair.

Softly tangled tendrils. Gossamer locks. Golden crown of glory.

Although for some reason she still had all of them, tucked away in her memento box.

Anyway... she certainly wasn't expecting any of that. Besides, she had more important things to do- like cheering up her best friend, she thought with a resolute nod.

But much to her chagrin, when she finally made into the penthouse, Blair was nowhere to be found.

"What do you mean, she didn't come home last night?" she questioned Dorota, her voice tinged with concern. Staying out all night was definitely not Blair-like behavior.

Dorota shook her head, looking more frazzled than usual.

"Miss Blair not come home, not answer her phone. Miss Eleanor asking, where is Miss Blair?" She threw up her hands in exasperation. "And Dorota starting to run out of excuses."

"Dorota!" Eleanor's strident voice rang out down the stairs, and the maid's eyes widened in panic.

But their mounting concern was interrupted by a cheerful ding of the elevator. Blair entered and made her way quietly across the foyer, her eyes widening briefly in surprise upon seeing Serena.

Her ivory and black dress looked just as polished as it had the previous evening, her hair arranged neatly in a low ponytail- but Serena could tell from her pale face and red-rimmed eyes that her outward poise was merely a façade.

"Hey B!" she greeted her friend, discouraged when she received only a wan smile in response.

"Dorota, have you managed to locate my daughter yet?" Eleanor descended the stairs, grumbling under her breath before surveying the foyer. "Blair- there you are. Where on earth have you been? We were supposed to go over final preparations for dinner over an hour ago!"

"Sorry mother," Blair responded quietly.

Eleanor gave her a quick once-over, frowning at what she saw. "Aren't you a little overdressed, dear? It's barely noon."

"Anyway," she continued, waving her hand dismissively. "We need to go over seating arrangements. I had you and Nate across from Spencer and his wife, but I'm thinking that seating you with the Worthingtons may more... advantageous. Thomas is a Yale alum, and he's very interested in talking to Nate about a possible internship in the Mayor's office next summer."

She paused, raising her eyebrows in her daughter's direction when she failed to respond. "Well?"

"Nate's not coming."

"What? On six hours notice?" Eleanor asked in disbelief. "Why on earth not?"

"We broke up," Blair replied, almost inaudibly.

And Serena looked back and forth between them, desperately hoping that Eleanor would show a little tact and sensitivity towards her obviously upset daughter. After all, there was a first time for everything.

"Again?" Eleanor sighed. "Honestly Blair, how am I supposed to keep track of this? You couldn't have given me a little advance warning?"

"Seeing as how I didn't have any myself, I'm not sure how..." Blair responded coolly, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, there's no need to get snippy about it," Eleanor continued. "I'm sure I can figure out a way to fix the seating chart. I'll just seat you next to... Cecil's daughter."

"Olivia? She's twelve!" Blair objected.

Eleanor released an aggravated sigh. "I don't know what else you expect me to do, Blair. She's the only other person without a plus one."

"Also, I hate her," Blair added stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Don't be so melodramatic, dear," Eleanor rolled her eyes. "It's only a few hours, I'm sure you'll survive.

"Anyway, I have to head to the florist- make sure they don't ruin my arrangements with filler flowers again," she continued, shaking her head. "It was lovely to see you, Serena!"

And with that, she departed- and Dorota took one glance at Blair's now glowering expression and made herself scarce as well.

"So... I brought breakfast!" Serena offered with forced cheer, gesturing with her bag of croissants.

"Seems to be a popular activity this morning," Blair eyed the pastries with distaste. "I guess I should change into something more... breakfast-appropriate."

Frowning in confusion, Serena followed her up the stairs, closing the door behind them once they reached her bedroom. She placed the coffee and food on the nightstand, unsure whether Blair even wanted it.

"Are you okay, B? I know you must be upset about... what happened with Nate..." she began, watching as her friend kicked off her shoes and pulled down the side zipper of her dress.

"You're probably going to want to turn around, seeing as how I'm not wearing any underwear," Blair commented dryly.

Serena gaped at her for a moment before turning to face the other wall. "What happened to your underwear?" she asked in a small voice, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"It's probably right where I left it," Blair's voice was momentarily muffled by the fabric of her dress. "Crumpled in a ball on the floor of Chuck's limo."

"What?" Serena spun around, her eyes wide with surprise.

Fortunately, Blair was already clothed. Securing the belt of her robe, she released her ponytail and shook the chestnut curls out around her shoulders.

And then she crawled across her bed, laying on her stomach and burying her face into the pillow.

"Blair, what happened?" she asked in a concerned voice, moving to sit next to her on the bed.

"I had sex with him." The grumbled admission was directed into her pillow. "... Lots of it."

Serena swallowed, wanting to provide support, but not really wanting details.

"How much is... lots?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Three times." There was a pause. "Well, four for me, I guess."

Good lord, and she'd only been gone for twelve hours, Serena thought. Reaching out to stroke her friend's hair, she contemplated how to console her.

"How did that... even happen?" she asked cautiously.

"It happened," Blair replied, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. "Because I am an idiot. An idiot who makes horrible idiot decisions."

"Well, it's not all _that_ bad," Serena ventured, trying to be supportive.

Blair looked at her like she'd gone daft.

"…right?" Serena added, even more uncertainly.

"I'm sorry, have you _met _Chuck?" Blair replied in disbelief.

"Believe me, I've been seeing more of him lately than I ever wanted to," Serena said with a laugh and a roll of her eyes. "But he's got some... positive qualities. And I think he really likes you, B."

She couldn't forget the hint of sadness on Chuck's face when he'd talked about Blair blowing him off- or their bizarre conversation about monogamy the other morning. There was more to this than just sex for him. She was sure of that.

"And you like him, so..." Serena looked at her friend expectantly.

"Whose side are you on here, anyway?" Blair asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I didn't know there were... sides..." Serena trailed off with a hapless shrug.

"Well, he talked Nate into breaking up with me," Blair replied sharply. "He neglected to mention that, of course, when he was standing around waiting to get in my pants immediately afterwards." The pitch of her voice was moving steadily higher, her cheeks growing flushed with indignation. "So he lied to me the whole... night, and then he acted like I should be _thankful_ that he went behind my back and manipulated everything."

"Maybe that's... just his twisted, creepy way of showing you he likes you?" Serena suggested hopefully.

"Yes, that's probably why he made dating me sound like a fate worse than death," Blair shot back. "Or why he pointed out what a pathetic fool I've made of myself over Nate. Trust me, he made his feelings for me crystal clear." A brief flash of hurt crossed her face before she regained her composure.

Serena sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. If this was Chuck's courting strategy, it seemed to be going... poorly.

"So yes, Serena... there are sides," Blair continued, regarding her with suspicion. "Can I trust that you're on mine?"

"Come on B, do you even need to ask?" Serena smiled at her, deciding to set the issue aside for now and just focus on cheering her friend up. "How about we just put on Tiffany's and enjoy our croissants?"

"Alright." Blair conceded, pulling herself to a seated position and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "I need a shower first though."

"And probably a shot of penicillin," she added, heaving a jaded sigh as she headed into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"Man, this party is awesome," Nate enthused, flopping down onto the velvet sofa next to Chuck.<p>

He ran his fingers through his golden brown hair, which was still tousled from a rather vigorous lapdance. His shirt was in similar disarray, tails untucked and several buttons undone, the collar marred by bright red lipstick smudges.

Chuck nodded absentmindedly, swirling the glass of scotch dangling from one hand. He contemplated the amber liquid for a moment, wondering why it didn't seem to be improving his mood- if anything, he was even more morose than he'd been two hours ago.

"_Way_ better than dinner at the Waldorfs," Nate added with a snort. "I mean... look at this place!"

Chuck scanned the room, assessing the elegant period furnishings, scantily-clad women, and raucous partygoers. The event was undeniably a success, and everyone appeared to be having a fabulous time- everyone, that is, except for Chuck. His mind had barely given him a second of Blair-free thought all day, and now, in the midst of all this revelry, he felt oddly detached from his decadent surroundings.

Even the burlesque show itself- which was usually good for at least an hour of enjoyable distraction- wasn't helping him escape his melancholy tonight. He let his gaze drift indifferently over the dancers, taking in their clichéd satin corsets, fishnet stockings, and overdone makeup. None of them could even hold a candle to the memory of a slim, doe-eyed brunette, the very picture of innocent seduction in her chaste little slip... her hips swaying back and forth as she danced on that very stage, just for him. All it had taken was one look, one coy little glance over her shoulder... and nothing in his life had been the same since.

He drained the rest of his tumbler, motioning to a waitress for another refill.

"Dude, what's gotten into you?" Nate asked, finally noticing that his enthusiasm wasn't shared. "You've been sitting here moping all night."

"Nothing, I just..." Chuck trailed off, running his hand along the side of his jaw. "Nothing," he repeated.

He had to admit, even that stuffy dinner party was starting to sound awfully appealing. After all, Blair was there, not here. And even if everyone else in attendance was completely dull, he'd still get to spend time with her... trading barbs, exchanging glances, possibly getting a little handsy under the table.

"Okay, I didn't want to say anything," Nate continued, his slightly glassy eyes focusing on his friend for a moment. "But you were acting... super weird this morning. Is this about that chick you had over?"

Normally the question would've made him tense and uncomfortable, but most of those reflexes had been dulled by several hours of heavy drinking. He did find it perplexing that he continued to feel miserable, though, when he could barely even feel his own legs anymore.

"Maybe," he finally admitted.

"Chuck Bass, hung up on a girl? You can't be serious," Nate guffawed, shaking his head. "What happened to living it up? No commitments, no responsibilities?"

"Whoa there, Nathaniel, don't get ahead of yourself," Chuck replied sardonically. "It's not... like that. I just wanted to see her again, that's all."

Another scotch materialized at his side and he finished half of it in one gulp.

"So... what's the problem?" Nate leaned back against the sofa, taking a swallow of his own drink as he observed the dancers onstage.

"I, uh... screwed up. And she thinks I'm an asshole," Chuck responded- briefly considering how pathetic he would have sounded to himself, had he been sober enough to care.

"Just tell her you're sorry and give her some flowers or something, she'll get over it." Nate shrugged.

"Flowers?" Chuck echoed, raising his eyebrows in disdain.

"Yeah dude, girls love flowers... and candy, and jewelry. They eat that shit right up," Nate said with a chuckle. "Blair always loved those... pink ones, you know..." he made a circular hand movement. "with the fluffy, uh, petals."

Chuck sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the indignity of such a gesture. If she shot him down, the humiliation would be... considerable.

But what if her brown eyes softened and she gave him that reluctant little smile, the way she always responded to Nate's apologies? She'd sniff the flowers, comment on how pretty they were, and then maybe... thank him with a kiss. And then the flowers would get tossed aside as they ripped each other's clothes off, and then he could proceed to apologize in a better, more naked way.

He had to admit this plan had a lot of upside.

Plus, if he were being completely honest, he did feel just a tiny bit remorseful about his behavior. Not his involvement in the actual breakup- because it was about goddamn time someone did something about that- but he did regret, just a little, not being more upfront with her about it. He couldn't blame her for feeling hurt and betrayed, given the way she'd found out.

So if it took some flowers to fix this whole mess, and make her look at him like she had in bed that morning- like there was no one else in the entire world she'd rather be looking at- then he would suck it up and go find some fucking flowers.

"You know what, I think you may be right," Chuck declared, inclining his head thoughtfully. "You should savor it, Archibald- it's not a regular occurrence."

Nate chuckled, his attention distracted by a rather buxom blonde waitress who'd perched on the sofa arm next to him.

Taking one last gulp of scotch, Chuck rocked himself onto his feet- and was surprised to feel the floor tilt beneath him. He took a moment to steady himself, wondering briefly if he should postpone this whole operation.

No, he decided- no time like the present. The sooner he took care of this, the sooner they could get back to the smiling, and the teasing, and the nakedness. And he was definitely in the mood for some nakedness.

He told Nate goodnight, and texted Arthur to bring around the limo as he made his way towards the exit.

* * *

><p>"Mister Chuck!" The angry hiss brought him to a halt, and he blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimly-lit foyer.<p>

"Good evening, Dorota," he greeted her in a languid drawl. "Is Miss Waldorf in?"

"Miss Blair is _asleep_," the maid retorted. "It is two o'clock in the morning."

As her plump figure came into focus, he realized she was wearing a fuzzy robe and slippers, instead of her standard-issue uniform. And her expression was distinctly unwelcoming.

"I do apologize for the... lateness of the hour," he said contritely. "I was... unavoidably detained."

He made sure to carefully enunciate all of his words, so he didn't sound drunk.

Although... he was definitely pretty drunk.

"Mister Chuck, you come back tomorrow morning," Dorota insisted, giving her head a disapproving shake.

"Look... _Dorota_," he coaxed, giving her his most charming smile. "I'm afraid this is a rather urgent matter and it... simply cannot wait until morning."

With her wide stance and crossed arms, Dorota was like a physical barricade- but Chuck managed to sidestep her and headed towards the staircase at a quick clip.

She gave an indignant huff and he turned to wink at her, pressing one finger against his lips in a shushing motion- and then stumbled over the next step, barely catching himself against the railing.

Regaining his balance, he checked to make sure the flowers were unharmed before continuing up the stairs.

For a city with 24-hour everything, a 24-hour florist had been surprisingly difficult to locate. He'd ended up having to bribe one out of bed, which had taken the better part of an hour. This was probably the most expensive bouquet of peonies ever purchased in Manhattan.

He examined them one last time. Pink, check. Fluffy petals. Check. He gave them a nod of approval.

Once he reached Blair's room, he knocked softly- and hearing no response, quietly turned the knob and entered, closing the door behind him.

Taking a tentative step forward into the darkened room, Chuck tripped over the edge of the rug- and in his haste to catch himself on a nearby piece of furniture, sent something atop it crashing to the floor.

"Fuck," he cursed loudly, fumbling around for the flowers he'd dropped.

The room suddenly flooded with light, and he squinted, shielding his face with one hand.

"What the..." Blair said in disbelief, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

They widened when they lit upon Chuck, who had spotted the fallen bouquet at his feet. Quickly retrieving it, he righted his posture and tried to look as dignified as possible.

Blair stared at him for a moment with her mouth open.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," she finally groaned.

.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And that's what we in the business call a "cliffhanger" (or so I'm told).

So... how do you expect Chuck's brilliant plan to work out? Will it get him A) laid, B) stabbed with a stiletto, C) ridiculed mercilessly, or D) all of the above, not necessarily in that order?

Any thoughts on the rest? (there was actually some other stuff that happened, before that last part...)

This chapter, as usual, is dedicated to my fantastic beta, Terrabeth- who has been known to accuse me of "musical snobbery". So this one's for you (and Chuck Bass, whom that song was actually written about. True story.) I have no adequate way to thank you for your awesomeness, or repay you for that glorious tribute poem. Perhaps I will... develop some sort of skill, and then use it to make you something. Like a potholder.

Special thanks also to Noirreigne, for all the lovely support and encouragement! As well as the rest of my reviewers, you (and Chuck and Blair) are the reason I write. You guys rule: _24hrscout, notoutforawalk, wrighthangal, fiona249, Maddtown (x12!), Kayla, Krazy4Spike, CBfanhere, 13Maggi13, ellibells, LeftWriter224, chaval, Rossiee, andi, Lexi1x07, bfan, abelard, Noirreigne, PrettyLittleJackie, CBforever, GGfan73104, CBBW3words8letters, jsta, fan, Love Still Stands, Arazadia, maryl, mlharper, LukePeyTLA, Temp02, katharienne, and TerraBeth._


	14. Blinded

.

**Chapter 14: Blinded**

_Just an old friend coming over now to visit you and  
>That's what I've become<br>I let myself in though I know I'm not supposed to but  
>I never know when I'm done<em>

_-Third Eye Blind  
><em>

"Explain yourself, Bass," she ordered, narrowing her eyes at him.

The bedside lamp cast a golden glow across his face, illuminating his rumpled hair and chiseled features. His usually impeccable clothes were slightly askew- no jacket or bowtie in sight, shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, several buttons undone to reveal a smattering of chest hair. And he swayed slightly on his feet, clutching the bouquet of peonies and regarding her with anticipation.

As if he expected her to squeal in delight and gratitude at his inebriated presence, she thought, frowning in annoyance.

"I brought you flowers," he explained, gesturing with the bouquet.

"Yes, I can see that," she replied coolly. "Why?"

"Because..." He paused and furrowed his brow, as if trying to remember the reason. "Because I'm sorry."

"You're drunk," she scoffed, shaking her head.

"I can be both," he countered.

Blair rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest- and to her dismay, saw Chuck's gaze immediately drift downwards to settle upon her exposed cleavage. She realized that not only was she barely dressed, wearing a flimsy pink slip that left very little to the imagination, she was also still in bed. And judging from his expression, the idea of joining her had already occurred to him.

Quickly scrambling out from under the covers, she grabbed the matching robe from the back of her desk chair and wrapped it around herself.

"Not really the direction I was hoping to go in," he commented, his eyes still running languidly over her body as she approached.

Chuck held the bouquet out towards her, a satisfied little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. He seemed to be expecting her to fall at his feet, probably due to some combination of innate egotism and drunken hubris.

But if he thought she was going to swoon over a handful of flowers and some smarmy one-liners... he was in for an unpleasant surprise. She reached out to take the peonies from his hand, giving him a little smile of appreciation that didn't quite reach her eyes.

And then, with a rapid movement of her arm, smacked the bouquet hard across the side of his head.

Chuck cursed, recoiling as she drew back for another strike. He raised his arms to shield himself, pink petals scattering left and right as repeated blows rained down upon his head.

"You" –_smack-_ "scared" –_smack_ -"the shit out of me," she said through gritted teeth, administering one last wallop. "What the fuck were you _thinking_, breaking into my room in the middle of the night? I thought you were some sort of... crazy burglar rapist."

"I didn't... break in," Chuck defended himself, cringing when she raised the bouquet again.

"What, you're telling me Dorota _let_ you in?" she said disbelievingly.

"Well, I had to juke her out. She's much... nimbler than she looks," he replied with a smirk, stumbling backwards slightly when she took another swipe at him.

Honestly, Chuck didn't look nimble enough to outmaneuver a piece of furniture at the moment, she thought.

"Would you mind just hitting me with your fists instead?" he pleaded, casting a mournful look at the tattered peonies. "It took me two hours to find those."

Deciding to show him some mercy, she lowered her arm.

"Why?" she asked, eying him with suspicion.

"Because it's after midnight," he replied in an obvious tone. "Everything is closed."

"No, I mean-" She paused, heaving a frustrated sigh. "Why did you spend two hours trying to find me peonies?"

"Because... they're your favorite," he explained, looking at her in a way that made her insides react with a traitorous quiver.

Blair stared down at the flowers, stroking against one velvety petal with the side of her finger while she tried to gather her thoughts. Eventually she peeped up at him through her lashes, finding him still watching her.

"What exactly is it that you're sorry for?" she asked quietly.

She didn't expect any sort of meaningful answer- even aside from his obvious inebriation, his goal was apparent. Men showed up drunk at two in the morning for booty calls, not thoughtful apologies.

"For... not telling you the truth about Nate," he replied, with a surprising amount of earnestness. "Although I did try," he added.

"When did you _try_?" she scoffed.

"Several times, while you were climbing into my lap and ripping my pants open," he drawled, giving her a suggestive once-over. "You can hardly blame me for getting... sidetracked."

Blair rolled her eyes, ignoring the sudden acceleration of her pulse at the memory.

"Which doesn't explain why you didn't tell me this morning," she said pointedly.

"You were naked, in my bed." He shrugged. "What can I say, I'm easily distracted."

He gave her an unrepentant grin, and she felt the corner of her mouth twitch in response.

"Well, it's not the best apology I've ever gotten... but it's acceptable," she conceded. "And I assume you're also apologizing for convincing him to dump me?"

"No," Chuck stated firmly.

"No?" she echoed, frowning in surprise.

"I know you want me to apologize, but I'm not sorry," he said, a tinge of defiance in his voice.

She gaped at him for several seconds.

"Oh my God, you are _terrible_ at this," she finally said, shaking her head.

His jaw tensed as he stared back at her, looking almost hurt by her condemnation.

"Well, do you want me to be sorry, or do you want me to be honest?" he retorted.

"I'd prefer both," she said dryly. "But barring that... I guess honest."

"Well, I'm not sorry for breaking up you and Nate. You shouldn't be with him." He paused, swallowing visibly. "You should be with me."

Blair felt her heartbeat stutter as a jolt of excitement raced through her body- tempered by the fear that she had either misheard or misunderstood him.

"What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly. Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, she stared back down at the peonies, twisting them uneasily in her hands. She could feel every ounce of blood in her body rushing to her cheeks.

"I was thinking- about the question you asked me last weekend," Chuck said cautiously, his tone betraying little. "And my answer is yes."

"Yes?" she repeated, raising her eyes to meet his.

"Yes... that's what I want," he clarified.

Blair bit her lower lip in an attempt to keep herself from smiling.

"You can't even say the word," she said skeptically.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly. "I want to be your _boyfriend_."

Not even his exasperated tone could prevent the giddiness she felt welling up inside her, but she forced herself to remain outwardly calm.

"How do I know you're serious? You're so drunk you can barely stand up straight," she pointed out, watching him steady himself against her dresser. "And do you even know what that word means?"

Chuck stared back at her, looking increasingly perturbed by her reaction- or rather, lack of reaction.

"My understanding," he replied tersely, "is that it means I only have sex with you, and you only have sex with me."

"So this is just about sex for you then." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"No, that's not-" He took a deep breath and rubbed one hand across his jaw. "I mean, I assume we'd also... go on dates, and... watch movies... or whatever people do when they're..." He trailed off, looking frustrated and uncomfortable.

"Give me a fucking break, Waldorf, I'm new at this," he said finally, averting his gaze.

He looked self-conscious, she realized- and Chuck Bass _never_ looked self-conscious. He frequently looked self-satisfied... or bored, amused, calculating, smarmy... but never unsure of himself.

For some reason, she found it absolutely irresistible.

Taking a step towards him, she reached up to run her hand along his jaw, feeling the slight scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips. He lifted his eyes and met her own, regarding her with quiet intensity as he waited for a response.

And she paused, for just a moment, because suddenly this all seemed so much more real than it had the night before. This wasn't a drunken hook-up, or a one-night stand she could just pretend to regret the next morning- this was actual, full-on _dating_ Chuck Bass, a guy who'd never committed to anything longer than a lap dance. A guy whose sexual exploits, if compiled, would read like a Best of edition of Penthouse Forum.

A guy who was now looking at her with tentative hopefulness in his warm hazel eyes, a glimpse of the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone. Sure, he was drunk and disheveled, a little bit belligerent, and not really all that sorry... but he'd put his pride on the line by telling her he wanted to be with her. And after a year of trying to suppress her own feelings, she could no longer deny that she wanted the same.

Raising herself up on her tiptoes, Blair curved her hand around the side of his neck and drew his face closer. The heady aroma of scotch and cologne filled her nostrils as she brushed her lips across his, the brief contact making her nerve endings tingle with anticipation.

"Is that an answer?" he murmured against her mouth.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, no longer able to keep the smile off her face.

"I think I would be... amenable to that arrangement," she replied coyly. She saw his lips tilt upwards, catching just a glimpse of unguarded happiness before he pulled her in for another kiss.

He plucked the flowers from her hands and unceremoniously tossed them aside. Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her flush against his body and deepened the kiss, impatiently seeking out her tongue with his own. Her hands moved up to grip the nape of his neck as she kissed him back, their mouths moving in unison, tongues stroking eagerly against each other.

She barely noticed she was being propelled backwards across the floor until she felt her thighs hit the edge of her bed.

"Chuck," she said breathlessly, trying to maintain some semblance of self-control.

"Mmm?" He moved his mouth down to her neck, which arched back instinctively.

"Maybe we should... wait..." she offered weakly. She could feel his lips trail down to her collarbone, which he began tracing along with his tongue.

"I was thinking," he said against her skin, sucking lightly on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, "we should celebrate."

His hands fumbled with the tie of her robe, finally managing to tug it open. She was so distracted by his mouth making its way across her shoulder, she barely noticed as the silky fabric slid down her back.

"But it's late and my... mother... is..." She trailed off into a soft moan as he cupped her ass with both hands, pulling her hips firmly against his. She could feel his hard length grinding against her, and the resulting throb of arousal radiated through her entire body.

She suddenly found herself flat on her back, sprawled sideways across the mattress. Chuck soon followed, working his way up her neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses and pulling at the straps of her nightie with more enthusiasm than dexterity.

"Chuck," she said softly, gripping his shoulders to get his attention. "Come on, you're drunk."

"I'm fine," he reassured her, with only a slight slur to his words. "I've had sex much drunker than this."

"How charming," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Apparently recognizing his faux pas, he paused his attempts to undress her.

"Well, just think of it as... you benefiting from my years of debauchery," he concluded with a wicked grin.

Her sigh of disgust quickly dissipated under a lingering kiss, his tongue thrusting aggressively against her own as his thighs nudged their way between hers.

"But Eleanor is home, if she finds you in here..."

Her protests trailed off as his lips moved their way down her neck, kissing along the edge of her nightie until he was nuzzling between her breasts. Giving up on the shoulder straps, he worked his way underneath instead, his fingers lingering over her hipbones.

"I just want," he murmured, sliding his hands up to her breasts "-to fuck-" cupping them in his palms "-my _girlfriend_." He rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pinching them lightly.

She had to admit, the word took on a whole new appeal when he said it in his sexy bedroom voice.

"Just give me... five minutes to convince you," he whispered, moving down to tongue the tight buds through the thin silk of her nightie.

She made a little noise of assent, running her hands through his hair as he dipped still lower, kissing his way down her abdomen.

She inhaled in anticipation when she felt his hot breath on her thigh, and then forgot to breathe entirely when his mouth brushed against her core. Parting her inner folds with his fingers, he began tonguing her with long, languid strokes, producing swells of pleasure that coursed through her body. He gripped her legs and spread them further apart, holding her in place as he explored her with his lips and tongue. She could feel herself grow slick with arousal, her body responding eagerly to his caresses.

"God, I love the taste of your pussy," he murmured.

She flushed in surprise at the unexpected dirty talk- apparently drunk Chuck was even less inhibited than regular Chuck- but her self-consciousness was soon forgotten when his tongue grazed her clit, circling it with gentle, tantalizing strokes that made her eyes roll back in bliss.

Encouraged by her response, he began laving the swollen nub with rhythmic motions, alternating between teasing flicks and more lingering caresses. She felt her hips arch off the bed of their own volition, her hands fisting into the sheets as she tried desperately to stay quiet. Whimpering with the effort of holding in her moans, she clenched her eyes shut, trying to stave off her release for as long as possible.

But the speed and pressure of his strokes increased, the wet friction producing wave after wave of exquisite sensation, and she felt her arousal start to spiral out of control. When he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking gently as he continued the swirling motions of his tongue, the hot, coiling tension inside her finally exploded.

Clutching her fingers into his hair, she cried out as an intense surge of pleasure radiated outward from her core. She could hear herself gasping his name in short, desperate pants as she rode out her orgasm, her hips bucking upwards against his mouth. He continued lapping at her gently, her thighs trembling under his palms, as she gradually regained her senses.

When he finally kissed his way back up her body, she was still shaking from the intensity of her release.

"You do make a persuasive argument, Bass," she said breathlessly.

Responding with a satisfied grin, he captured her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, mixed with the potent tang of Scotch, and feel the rigid length of his cock pressed against her leg.

Sliding his hand under her thigh, he wrapped it around his waist and rocked their hips together. The erotic rhythm stirred a throb of pleasure in her groin, her body responding instinctively to his movements.

"Fuck, Blair," he groaned as her body arched into his. "I want to be inside you so bad."

"Alright," she finally conceded, breathing heavily against his mouth. "One round. As long as you're out of here by morning."

* * *

><p><em>And I see you fogging up the mirror<br>Vapor round your body glistens in the shower  
>And I want to stay right here<br>And go down on you for an hour _

_Or stay, and let the day just fade away  
>In wild dedication, take the moment of hope<br>And let it run_

* * *

><p>Drifting out of a deep slumber, Blair slowly realized she was being awakened by a sound that was neither her alarm clock nor her Dorota. She crinkled her nose in confusion for a moment, finally recognizing the low, rhythmic noise as snoring.<p>

Opening her eyes, she rolled over to find Chuck asleep beside her, completely dead to the world. One arm was slung over his head, his lips parted slightly to emit a soft rumble every few seconds.

She decided that it wouldn't be too creepy or stalkerish to just observe for a minute or two- after all, he was her boyfriend.

Chuck Bass... was her boyfriend. That was going to take some getting used to.

She settled back into her pillow, studying the rumpled hair falling across his forehead and soft brown lashes resting against his cheeks. His chest rose and fell in a steady cadence, and sleep had relaxed the sharp angles of his face, making him look younger, almost innocent.

Which he most definitely was not, she thought, recalling the previous night's activities with a little aftershock of pleasure.

She was eying the curve of his lower lip, contemplating how best to wake him up, when a series of knocks jarred her from her reverie. She only managed a squeak of protest before Dorota entered, bustling into the room with a dry-cleaning bag and a no-nonsense expression.

"Miss Blair, your mother want you downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes, she say no time for sleeping in today-"

She stopped with a scandalized gasp, staring in horror as Blair made a futile attempt to cover the sleeping, obviously naked boy beside her with the duvet- which, of course, woke him up.

Chuck stretched his arms over his head, slowly blinking his eyes open and wincing as the light hit them.

"_Mister__Chuck!_" The indignant hiss brought him fully awake, and he sat up, attempting to stifle a yawn.

"Mmm, Dorota. Good morning," he greeted her. He gave her a sleepy grin and scratched idly at his chest with one hand. The duvet had slipped down, sitting low around his hips and threatening to slide even lower.

Blair attempted to look unruffled, although her cheeks were stained red with mortification.

"Dorota, tell mother I will be... right down," she commanded. She gave the maid a haughty stare, as if she were a dignified society princess, not a teenage girl wearing only a bed sheet and a post-coital glow.

Dorota shook her head disapprovingly, muttering under her breath in Polish as she pulled the door closed behind her.

"Chuck!" Blair rounded on her bedmate, delivering a smack to his upper arm. "I told you not to sleep over!"

"You know, you really need to stop hitting me," he said wryly, rubbing his bicep with a pained expression. "I'm starting to feel like I'm in an abusive relationship."

"You think _that__'__s_ abusive?" she scoffed. "Wait until my mother finds you in here."

He shrugged, seemingly unafraid of Eleanor's wrath.

"I could just stay in bed and wait for you to finish breakfast?" he offered suggestively. He ran one finger down her bare arm, a trail of goosebumps following in its wake.

She sighed, rolling her eyes in feigned exasperation- and pretending she wasn't extremely tempted by the idea.

"I can't, I have a dress-fitting afterwards," she replied, retrieving her robe from the floor and wrapping it around herself. "For the Prentice wedding," she elaborated, in response to his questioning expression.

It suddenly occurred to her that she no longer had a date for said wedding, which was only a week away. And she now had to make a rather humiliating last-minute phone call to the mother of the bride to explain the situation.

Unless... perhaps she did have a date? She chanced a look in Chuck's direction, only to find him looking back at her with a raised eyebrow, puzzled by her sudden silence.

"I was supposed to go with Nate," she explained, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Oh." He paused and cleared his threat. "So I guess that will that be our first... public appearance?"

"I guess so," she responded, forcing a nonchalant expression onto her face- as if her stomach hadn't just exploded in a flurry of nervous excitement. Because, so what if she was attending the society wedding of the season with Chuck Bass. Her boyfriend.

No big deal, really.

"Well, send me a pic from your fitting," he said casually, sliding towards the side of the bed.

Blair was silent for a moment, distracted by the sight of his bare ass, before his words had a chance to sink in.

"Ugh, I am not sending you naked pictures of myself," she responded in an appalled tone. "If you need to jerk off that badly, you're just going to have to use your imagination."

"I meant a picture of the dress, so I can coordinate my outfit," he said dryly, pulling on his boxers.

"... oh," she peeped back, trying to look appropriately contrite.

"But do feel free to include a naked picture as well, if the mood strikes you," he added. He gave her an appreciative leer as he shrugged into his shirt.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Bass."

Glancing in the mirror of her vanity, she frowned in dismay at the condition of her hair, which seemed to be curling in every possible direction, and the dark circles under her eyes- no doubt the result of her late-night sexcapades.

"Ugh, I look terrible," she groused.

There was no way twenty (now seventeen) minutes of primping was going to fix this mess, and it sounded like Eleanor was already in one of her moods. Shaking her head irritably, she turned to head towards the bathroom, almost running smack into Chuck's chest.

"You look... thoroughly ravished," he murmured, sliding both hands up to frame her face. He leaned in to slant his mouth against hers, kissing her so intently it left her breathless. "It's a good look on you," he added, grinning mischievously as he picked a wayward petal out of her hair.

That giddy, fluttery feeling started wreaking havoc all over her insides again, and she couldn't help but smile back at him. His warm hazel eyes were still hazy with sleep, but they were regarding her with a gleam of admiration that made her feel flushed all over.

And the half-unbuttoned shirt and bedhead was... definitely a good look on him too, she decided.

"Call me later?" she requested, biting into her lower lip.

Chuck answered with one last kiss, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before finally pulling away and heading for the door.

"Make sure you take the back staircase, it's down the hall to the left," she called after him softly. He rolled his eyes but nodded, pulling the door closed behind him.

She took a few seconds to gaze after him, smiling like a lovesick idiot, before she headed to the bathroom to start repairing her ravished appearance.

* * *

><p>Serena was kneeling in front of her closet, pondering whether to risk her new knee-high suede boots on a ten-percent chance of rain, when she heard a door open across the hall. Furrowing her brow, she rose to her feet and went to investigate.<p>

"Chuck," she greeted her disheveled-looking stepbrother, who was sitting on the edge of his bed removing his shoes. "I was starting to wonder if you still lived here."

He shrugged and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"I was summoned home for family brunch," he replied sardonically, gesturing with his cell phone.

"Late night?" she asked in a disdainful tone, assessing his wrinkled clothes and the faint aroma of day-old liquor.

"You could say that," he replied, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Serena rolled her eyes with a little sound of disgust.

"Ugh," she said, her worst suspicions having been confirmed. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to think that you really liked Blair."

"Serena-" he tried to interrupt, but she ignored him.

"You convince Nate to break up with her, you _have__sex_ with her," she rattled off, "and less than a day later, you're already doing..." She paused, gesturing at his appearance. "God knows what with God knows who. It's despicable, even for you."

Chuck narrowed his eyes at her, looking offended.

"And to think, I was actually trying to get her to give you a chance!" Serena continued, shaking her head in disappointment.

"While I appreciate your... faith in me," he interrupted her shortly. "Blair and I are fine."

Serena paused mid-rant, taken aback by his response.

"Better than fine, actually..." Chuck added in a softer tone, an enigmatic little smile crossing his face.

She studied him as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, his features relaxed in contentment.

He actually looked… happy, she realized. Which was wasn't an expression she was used to seeing on his face, unless illicit substances and multiple slutty women were involved. And even then she'd never seen him look quite this... peaceful.

With the possible exception of a few weeks last year, around Thanksgiving time.

"Wait, were you..." She trailed off, looking at him with dawning understanding. "Were you with Blair last night?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells, sis," he replied with a wicked grin.

"And you're hardly a gentleman, Chuck," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Were you with Blair, yes or no?"

Chuck pursed his lips thoughtfully as he considered how to answer this.

"Yes," he offered.

"So you managed to get into her pants again," Serena grumbled. "Should I just head straight over to the penthouse to try and stave off another Blair meltdown?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," he replied, sounding strangely calm. "I assure you that Blair is perfectly happy with the current status of our relationship."

"Relationship?" Serena echoed, furrowing her brow skeptically. "What- are you two, like... a couple now?"

She felt a strange mixture of happiness and unease at the possibility. She knew Blair must be thrilled to have successfully wrangled a commitment from Chuck, no matter how hard she tried to hide it- but if things went south, the fallout was potentially nuclear. And she would the one stuck picking up the pieces.

Chuck appeared to ponder his reply for a moment.

"Seeing as how you're Blair's best friend, I'm sure she'd prefer to discuss it with you herself," he said evasively, his mouth still quirked up in a satisfied little smile.

Serena raised her eyebrows. No raunchy comments? No leers? No jokes? This version of Chuck was so far removed from his usual self, he seemed like a totally different person. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Now, I need to get changed, so unless you'd like a show..." he trailed off, cocking an eyebrow at her suggestively.

Well, maybe not a completely different person, she thought, rolling her eyes. She exited the room, planning to corner Blair and coerce the details out of her at the next available opportunity.

* * *

><p>"There you are, dear," Eleanor greeted Blair as she took a seat at the breakfast table. "I was wondering if you were going to stay in bed all day."<p>

"Sorry, mother," she replied contritely. "I had... difficulty sleeping last night."

She struggled to keep a smirk off of her face, recalling the cause of her insomnia.

"So I called ahead to the atelier- they finished the alterations and should be all ready for your appointment," Eleanor commented, taking a sip of her coffee.

Dorota bustled into the room, filling Blair's coffee cup and setting down a tempting array of breakfast pastries. Eleanor eyed her daughter as she selected a rich-looking chocolate brioche off of the silver tray.

"Careful dear, you don't want to be bloated for your fitting," she said disapprovingly.

Chastised, Blair replaced the pastry and took a few strawberries from the fruit bowl instead. She stirred some skim milk and sweetener into her coffee before taking a long, bracing gulp.

"So assuming the dress is suitable," her mother began. "We still have the issue of your date to contend with."

Blair brightened a little, feeling that increasingly familiar flip-flop of her stomach.

"Actually, about that-"

"So I spoke to Catherine Baizen after dinner last night," Eleanor continued, undeterred. "And she said that Carter would be back from Barcelona in time for the wedding, and he'd be happy to accompany you."

"Carter? What?" Blair faltered, shaking her head. "No, I-"

"Apparently he's really shaped up in the last year, after his little sojourn abroad," Eleanor went on, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He's interning with his father's company and planning to attend Columbia next fall. Plus, you two have known each other for years, so I think he'll be an ideal escort."

"Actually, I was thinking of going with Chuck," Blair finally interrupted, twisting her napkin anxiously in her lap.

"Chuck... Bass?" Eleanor asked, her features stiffening in dismay. "Good Lord, why?"

Blair's heart dropped at the contempt in her mother's voice, and she hurriedly took a sip of coffee to mask her reaction.

"I know you two are... friends," Eleanor allowed, a tinge of distaste in her voice, "but really Blair, this is the biggest social event of the season, and there will be some _very_ influential people in attendance. Do you really want to meet the chairman of the Yale board of trustees accompanied by someone with... his reputation?"

"Why would they even know anything about Chuck?" Blair asked, confused. She couldn't imagine what possible interest a bunch of Fortune 500 CEOs would have in the sexual exploits of a seventeen-year-old.

"Because _everyone_ knows," Eleanor replied, rolling her eyes. "That boy's been a delinquent since he was old enough to dress himself. And rumor has it, he actually slept with one of the trustee's wives- so they're likely to remember _that_at least."

Blair opened her mouth and then closed it again, looking down at her lap in consternation.

"Bart has had a terrible time controlling that boy, what with the drinking, and the drugs, and the women," her mother continued, shaking her head in disgust. "Between his grades and his arrest record, all the money in Manhattan won't be sufficient to buy his way into a good college."

"But-" She was about to remind her mother that Chuck was already managing a successful business at only seventeen, but she was interrupted before she could get another word out.

"This is a golden opportunity to impress the Yale trustees with your poise and maturity," Eleanor said firmly. "The last thing you want to do is undermine that with an unsuitable companion."

Blair swallowed, feeling an awful tightness in the pit of her stomach.

Well, maybe her mother was right about the politics of the situation, she thought. But she was dead wrong about Chuck. Sure, he had a few... behavioral kinks that would need to be worked out, but she was confident that she could manage it with a little time and patience.

She trusted that his womanizing tendencies wouldn't be a problem, as long as she kept him sufficiently… satisfied. All she had to do was prevent him from flaunting his illegal habits, convince him to go to school once in awhile, and maybe rein in some of the public perviness. Then everyone else would be able to see the great, charming guy she was totally smitten with.

He was just a little bit of a... fixer-upper boyfriend, that's all.

And after the dismal failure of her perfect-on-paper relationship with Nate Archibald, maybe a renovation project was exactly what she needed.

"So, I'll call Catherine back to confirm, hmm?" Eleanor smiled in satisfaction when Blair nodded distractedly. She was already busy making a mental list of Chuck's behavioral tendencies that would require modification before their first outing as a couple.

"Alright, I'll go get my portfolio and we can head to your fitting." Eleanor scraped back her chair and stood, smoothing the wrinkles out of her pantsuit. "And do finish your coffee, dear, you look exhausted."

* * *

><p>"Hey Dan," Jenny greeted her brother as she walked into the living room, dropping her bags by the front door. She'd spent the weekend visiting her mother in Hudson, a welcome relief from her busy social schedule. As much as she loved going to parties and luncheons and spa dates with her friends, trying to pretend she could actually afford all of those things was exhausting.<p>

Receiving only a grunt from her brother, she sighed with exasperation.

"Seriously, how long are you going to keep pouting about this?" she asked.

"About the fact that you completely wrecked my relationship over some stupid rumor that turned out to not even be true?" he retorted, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his book. "Yeah, I'm not quite finished pouting about that, so if you don't mind..."

"First of all," she said pointedly, her eyes narrowing in indignation, "I didn't wreck anything. You'd already screwed up your relationship, and you just managed to screw it up even further by believing the worst of Serena instead of just talking to her. And, if I'm not mistaken," she added, "that's the same thing that's torpedoed your relationship the last however-many times now."

Dan looked back at her in annoyance, clearly not appreciating her attempt to shift the blame onto him.

"And second." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I didn't lie to you about anything, I heard it from a very reliable source who happened to get his facts wrong. So I am _sorry_ that this messed things up for you, but I'm done being the punching bag for your Serena issues."

With that, she went to retreat into her room, before Dan's voice stopped her.

"Look, Jen- I'm sorry, I shouldn't be blaming you for this," he admitted. "It's just... she doesn't even acknowledge me at school, and then I saw her and Nate flirting in the courtyard the other day, and I'm really worried... well, I'm worried I might have lost her for good this time."

Jenny turned to face him, trying not to roll her eyes at the forlorn expression on his face.

"Well, as long as Nate's with Blair, I don't see why that's anything to worry about," she said dismissively.

"Nate's not with Blair anymore," Dan replied with a despondent sigh. "And he and Serena do have a history together-"

"What do you mean, Nate's not with Blair anymore?" Jenny interrupted, staring at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, didn't you see the Gossip Girl blast? They broke up on Friday," he said.

"No, I was getting really bad reception at mom's, so I just turned my phone off..." Jenny dug into her purse, fumbling around until she located her cell phone.

"I just don't know what she'd see in Nate anyway- I mean, have you tried to have a conversation with the guy?" Dan groused. "I can't tell if he's high, or if he just doesn't understand some of the words I'm using..."

Jenny waited for her phone to finish booting up, not even pretending to pay attention to Dan's Serena-related yammering in the meantime.

When she finally flipped through her text messages, she soon found the blast he was referring to- a tearful picture of Blair leaving her party under the headline "The end of an era?" It was followed by a gleeful summary of the supposed royal divorce between the reigning king and queen of the UES.

_Shit_, she thought. Her entire plan was falling to pieces- first, that juicy rumor about Serena had turned out to be bullshit, and now her scandalous Chuck/Blair gossip bomb was becoming less explosive by the second.

Although... she was still certain Blair wouldn't want her junior-year affair with Chuck made public under any circumstances. It was humiliating and potentially dethroning, especially with a well-worded, Jerry-Springer-esque tagline: "Pregnancy Scare on the Upper East Side- and Who's Your Daddy, B?"

Plus, weeks of careful observation had led Jenny to suspect that there was more to the Chuck and Blair saga than just an errant fling. There was just something about how Blair reacted to the mention of his name, and the way they looked at the other when they thought no one was paying attention- and Serena's cryptic comment on the school steps the other morning had been very suggestive. If Jenny Humphrey were a betting woman, she would lay money on their affair being an ongoing one. She couldn't prove it- not yet, at least- but there was still plenty of potential blackmail material at hand.

Unfortunately, Blair was growing increasingly antagonistic towards her, and after the Snowflake ball committee situation, Jenny knew that pushing her any further could potentially spell disaster. But... there was still another party with something to lose here.

Chuck clearly couldn't care less about his reputation, but he still had his friendship with Nate to worry about. And if her suspicions were correct, he might have even more at stake than that. She didn't relish the idea of going toe-to-toe with Chuck- he was just as manipulative as Blair and even more ruthless, plus there was the creepy sex-pervert factor to consider- but no risk, no reward.

She just needed to decide what she wanted that reward to be. He had plenty of money, but that sort of blackmail just seemed... low-class. He also had influence, but mostly over the same people that Blair did.

One thing he did have, though, was influence over Nate. Who was now the most eligible bachelor at St. Jude's.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, pondering this possibility.

"-anyway, I was thinking about leaving it in her locker. She always loves when I write her poems, but this one is a little more esoteric than the others, and I don't want her to read it and, you know, misinterpret what I'm trying to say-" Dan's ramblings impinged on her plotting, and she sighed in annoyance.

"Yeah, leave the poem in her locker, she'll love it," Jenny interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm gonna go lie down, I'm starting to get a headache."

And with that, she headed to her bedroom to continue her scheming in private.

* * *

><p>Chuck was lounging in bed later that afternoon, struggling to stay awake as he perused the CliffsNotes version of Hamlet. After Bart's pointed comments about his grades over family brunch, he'd been annoyed enough to at least attempt his English homework- but he certainly wasn't about to wade through 120 pages of that footnoted crap.<p>

He was just starting to drift off, his head drooping back against the pillow, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw Blair's name flash across the screen and suppressed the smile that immediately jumped to his lips.

Even alone in his own room, he wasn't willing to act like some besotted idiot.

"Hey," he greeted her, barely stifling a yawn.

"Hey, did I wake you?" Blair's voice rang over the line.

"No, I was just... studying," he replied.

"Oh really?"

She sounded oddly pleased, but he supposed she was into that sort of thing.

"How did your appointment go?" he asked, sitting up and setting his homework aside.

"Oh, great, my dress fit perfectly," she said cheerfully. "And I bought some new Dior pumps, and a matching clutch. Oh, and Daddy sent me the most beautiful sapphire necklace from Paris..."

He smiled and leaned back against the pillows, enjoying the sound of her voice as she chattered on excitedly.

"Well, send me a pic soon," he commented when she finally paused to take a breath. "My tailor does need a little bit of lead time."

"Oh, about that..." Blair paused, clearing her throat. "I was thinking maybe it would be better if we delayed our... first public appearance."

Chuck frowned, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Why's that?" he asked with forced nonchalance.

"Well, I was just thinking," she went on. "It's been less than two days since Nate and I broke up, and if you and I go public now... what would people think?"

"I don't really give a shit what people think," he replied evenly.

"Well, I do!" she countered, a sudden edge to her voice.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, before he heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Chuck," she said calmly. "I know you care what Nate thinks, and you basically talked him into breaking up with me. Do you really want to call him right now and tell him we're dating?"

Admittedly, he had been dreading that encounter, which seemed certain to end with him minus one best friend- he just wasn't sure how postponing it would help matters.

"Not... really," he admitted grudgingly.

"If we go public now," she continued. "Everyone will think I cheated on Nate with you- including Nate."

Which was not entirely untrue, he thought, but chose to keep that to himself.

"Or..." She paused. "They'll think I'm only dating you to get back at him."

"Are you?" The words were out before he could stop them, and he could've kicked himself for sounding so insecure.

"No!" she responded vehemently. "Of course not, Chuck, you know that's not why."

"I know," he reassured her, trying to sound more convinced than he felt.

"But everyone will assume the worst, they won't take us seriously," she went on. "And you'll lose your best friend. I don't want to be the cause of that."

Chuck was silent for a moment, contemplating their predicament. She did have a point, as much as he hated to admit it.

"So what do you suggest we do instead?" he asked finally.

"We just... keep it to ourselves for awhile, give all the gossip a chance to die down," she proposed. "Then after a respectable amount of time has passed, we go public. That way, people won't be suspicious, and Nate won't be as upset with you."

Her suggestion did have some merit, he decided, but he couldn't help feeling a little troubled by the whole situation.

"How is that any different than what we did last year?" he asked skeptically. That arrangement had turned out rather poorly for him, so he certainly wasn't interested in a redux.

"Because that- was just a fling," she said quietly. "And this is... a real relationship, right?"

"Yeah," he replied, swallowing tightly. "Yeah, it is."

He could feel his heart pounding in his throat as an emotionally-laden silence stretched between them.

"Besides," she continued, her voice assuming a suggestive tone. "Sneaking around does have a certain... appeal, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, recalling some of their more adventurous trysts from the previous year. There'd been one memorable one in the third floor janitor's closet, when Blair- in the throes of a particularly intense orgasm- had knocked a bottle of Windex all over him. During the ensuing commotion, her Louboutin had landed in a bucket of dirty mop water.

She'd ordered him to cut class for the rest of the day, so no one would notice that they'd both shown up to fourth period with cleaning-supply-related wardrobe malfunctions. He'd been more than happy to oblige.

"I suppose I could get on board with that," he conceded. "You should probably check in with Serena though. She may need to be muzzled."

"Why? What did you tell her?" Blair asked accusingly.

"I wasn't trying to tell her anything, she just guessed," he defended himself. "Turns out, she's brighter than she looks."

"Well, don't worry, I can handle Serena," she said.

"So we're both going to the wedding stag then? Maybe we can rendezvous in the coat room," he suggested, smiling in anticipation.

"Oh, actually- my mother is going to set me up with someone," Blair replied nonchalantly. "Apparently it would be... terribly unseemly for me to go alone."

"You're bringing a _date_?" he asked sharply, cringing at how pathetic it sounded.

"Not a date, just an... escort," she explained. "It's no big deal."

When he said nothing in response, she hastily tried to convince him.

"It's just for show, Chuck," she said reassuringly. "Believe me, I am _not_excited about it. But the good news is, once I'm done being bored senseless by the guy, I can go home with you..." she trailed off provocatively.

He wasn't sure what was worse, how aggravated he was by this turn of events, or how ridiculous he felt for even caring. He was Chuck Bass, after all, and he shouldn't give two shits that someone else was escorting Blair to some lame society function- especially if he got her to fuck her at the end of the night regardless.

And he certainly wasn't about to give her the upper hand by letting on how much it bothered him.

"I could book a room at the Plaza," he offered nonchalantly. "That way we'd have a much shorter... commute."

"Sounds good." He could hear the relief in her voice at his acquiescence. "Speaking of which... I picked up a few other things to wear too."

"Oh really?" He arched an eyebrow at her seductive tone.

"Hang on, I'll call you right back."

She hung up, and he stared at his phone in puzzlement for a moment. When it vibrated, alerting him that he had a text message, he opened it to find a picture of Blair.

A picture of Blair in a very sexy lingerie set, posed in front of a dressing room mirror. She'd angled the camera phone so her face wasn't visible, but he could see her slim legs encased in sheer silk stockings, fastened by garters to a pale pink satin corset. The boning amplified the ivory swells of her breasts, creating a tempting valley between them. And a silky little thong completed the ensemble, the scrap of fabric barely enough to cover the cleft between her thighs.

His mouth went dry, his mind filling with visions of tearing the lingerie off her delectable little body.

When his phone rang again, the pop-up notification obscuring his view of the picture, he sighed in disappointment before answering.

"Does it meet with your approval?" she asked throatily.

"It does indeed," he replied, shifting on the bed as he felt himself becoming uncomfortably aroused. "Does it mean you're planning on coming over, or do I have to take care of this... situation myself?"

"Sorry, I have homework to do," she said coyly.

"You're killing me, Waldorf," he groaned, and heard her giggle on the other end of the line.

"Well, maybe I could be free later for a little... study break?" she suggested.

"I'd like that," he murmured. "Meet me at the Palace at eight?"

"It's a date." He could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him smile in return.

They said their goodbyes, and as soon as he'd hung up, Chuck quickly thumbed his way back to the picture message of Blair in her lingerie. Tossing his phone face up on the bed, he admired the image of his girlfriend's barely-clothed body… and reached downwards to undo the button of his trousers.

His book lay abandoned on the bedside table, temporarily forgotten.

* * *

><p><em>And never look back at all the damage<br>We have done now  
>To each other<br>To each other, to each other_

_But when I see you  
>It's like I'm staring down the sun<br>I'm blinded_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So our favorite couple is now officially a couple! It's been a long time coming. Of course, they're still going to have some obstacles and drama to work through- Blair may have placated him for now, but I'm thinking Jealous Chuck will be making an appearance in the very near future...

As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and what you're hoping to see next. And for anyone interested, I'm also working on a side-project/prequel to this story, called "The Idea of You"- you can find the link in my profile.

A million thanks to Terrabeth, for working her usual magic on this chapter and being so understanding of my demanding beta needs.

And thanks so much to all of my lovely reviewers, you always make my day: _Rossiee, __fiona249, __YasminY, __Noirreigne, __GGfan73104, __LeftWriter224, __Arazadia, __KillerNewton, __notoutforawalk, __Stella296, __13maggi13, __chaval, __Rajamoon, __Cbalwaysandforever, __ellibells, __Krazy4Spike, __Nicole, __Nicky, __flipped, __Aliennut, __cb, __jsta, __maryl, __CBBW3words8letters, __CakeNIcecream, __love __sold __in __the __evening, __teddy__bear, __mlharper, __annablake __and __livelybass __(both __with __the __much-appreciated __double-chapter__reviews!), __Laura, __Temp02, __loopingread, __and __last __but __certainly __not __least, __Prinniegg._


	15. I Know

**A/N:** This chapter is rated M (what, CB are in a secret relationship, did you expect any less?)

**Chapter 15: I Know**

_My mama said to stay from guys like you.__  
><em>_She said they were nasty _  
><em>Make me do things I don't wanna do<em>_  
><em>_Stay away from bad boys they've got one thing on their mind__  
><em>_Their hormones are raging and they want it _  
><em>all the time<em>

_-Save Ferris_

It was the perfect day for a walk down Park Avenue, Blair mused, feeling the contented smile on her face and the bouncy little spring in her step. The sun was shining, flowers were blooming, birds were chirping…

Although, given that it was October in Manhattan, possibly some of this was just her imagination. She hummed a cheerful little tune to the beat of her footsteps, barely noticing the frigid breeze ruffling the hem of her skirt and the loose-set curls of her hair.

It was remarkable, the effect a late-night study break could have on a girl's disposition.

"Blair!" An exasperated voice impinged on her consciousness, and she blinked in surprise as Serena appeared beside her.

"I've been calling your name for the last two blocks," she complained, huffing a little in exertion.

"Oh, sorry, I must not have heard you," Blair replied contritely.

"Did you also not hear your phone when I called you four times last night?" Serena asked suspiciously.

"Well, I did mean to call you back, I was just… busy, and then it was so late…"

Serena eyed her with consummate skepticism, but Blair pretended not to notice, rummaging around in her handbag for her phone as they continued walking towards school.

"B…" The plaintive tone in her best friend's voice finally swayed her, and she came to a stop, sighing inwardly.

"Yes?" she asked brightly, giving Serena her most guileless smile.

Serena's expression clearly indicated that she was having none of it.

"What's going on between you and Chuck?"

Blair paused. Even though the secrecy had been her idea, there was still a part of her- the giddy, hormone-crazed, hopelessly infatuated part- that wanted nothing more than to brag about their newfound relationship to everyone she encountered.

To brag about how _Chuck Bass_, unrepentant playboy and disdainer of monogamy, was so into her that he was not only willing, but downright eager, to commit to a relationship. That he'd spent hours hunting down her favorite flowers in the middle of the night, and then presented them to her with a heartfelt apology and plea for forgiveness (she figured she could just omit the part where he was falling-down drunk).

That she'd spent most of the weekend having the best sex of anyone's life, and it made her toes curl up inside her Jimmy Choos just thinking about it.

She couldn't say any of that, of course- she had to stick to the plan, take things slowly until they were ready to go public. But in the meantime, she could at least confide in her best friend.

She glanced back and forth stealthily, making sure the street was clear of eavesdroppers.

"I mean, are you guys… _together_ now?" Serena asked skeptically.

"We are," Blair confirmed, unable to keep the satisfied little smile off her face.

"Okay… wow." Serena blew out a long breath. "So Chuck is… your boyfriend."

Blair nodded happily, catching her lower lip between her teeth to keep from grinning like a crazy person.

"You seemed, uh… pretty upset with him on Saturday morning," Serena ventured. "But I guess you guys… worked things out?"

"You could say that," Blair replied saucily. "If 'working things out' is a euphemism for-"

"Nope, don't need details," Serena interrupted, cringing slightly in distaste. "As long as you're happy, B, then… I'm happy for you."

"Oh, I'm _definitely_ happy," Blair assured her with a contented little sigh.

"Seriously, enough."

"I didn't even say anything!" Blair protested.

"You were thinking it, I could tell from the look on your face." Serena gave a quick shake of her head, as if trying to erase the image from her brain. "And I have to live with him, which is creepy enough already, so let's not up the ick factor."

"Anyway…" She paused to regroup. "How did Nate take it?"

"Oh… well." Blair became engrossed in removing an imaginary piece of lint from the lapel of her peacoat. "Chuck and I decided it's best if we keep it to ourselves for awhile."

Serena raised an eyebrow at her.

"You decided what now?"

"We agreed that we would tell everyone when we were ready," Blair replied, unperturbed. "Which is not yet."

"Or…" Serena countered, her brow furrowing in suspicion. "Chuck doesn't want to tie himself down by going public, and risk losing his hard-earned man-whore reputation… so this way he can have his cake and eat it too."

She winced slightly as she recognized her own unintentional innuendo.

"Serena." Blair rolled her eyes. "As sweet as this is, you being all protective of my virtue, it wasn't Chuck's idea. It was mine."

Serena stared at her in evident confusion.

"It's just that it's so soon after the breakup," Blair rationalized. "People would talk, and we don't want that sort of… scrutiny."

"So you're both just going to lie to Nate?" Serena asked doubtfully.

Blair felt herself growing defensive at the hint of accusation in her best friend's voice.

"What, so you now you're all concerned about _Nate's_ feelings?" she retorted. "The same guy who's probably lost count of how many times he's broken up with me?"

"I didn't mean that, B," Serena attempted to placate her. "But you're all my friends, and I just… I don't want to see any of you get hurt… that's all."

"Well, as long as you keep this to yourself and let us handle it, nobody will," Blair replied firmly. "Shall we?"

She turned to continue down the sidewalk towards school, and Serena trailed after her, heaving a deep, apprehensive sigh.

Ten minutes later, the two girls were perched on the courtyard steps and sipping their morning lattes, a small group of minions gathered around them. They chattered amongst themselves- discussing their weekend exploits, complimenting each other's shoes and accessories, and making catty comments about passing underclassmen- but the atmosphere felt tense and uneasy.

Eventually there was an awkward pause in the conversation, with most of the girls casting covert glances in Blair's direction, but no one daring to speak first.

"So…" Iz finally addressed her, looking visibly nervous as Blair tilted her head towards her with an expectant expression. "What's going on with you and Nate?"

"Oh, that." Blair waved her hand dismissively, as if the end of her six year relationship were of little consequence. "Things had sort of been… cooling off for awhile. And since we were going out separate ways after graduation anyway, we decided we were just better off as friends."

A flurry of nodding heads followed her pronouncement, although several of the girls still looked unconvinced.

With good reason, Blair thought- after all, if she'd made that exact statement a year ago, it would've been total bullshit. But now, she was almost surprised at how genuine the words sounded… and _felt_.

Feeling a tingling sensation run up her spine, she glanced up to find a pair of hazel eyes observing her from across the courtyard. Chuck was lounging against the ivy-covered brick wall- hands in the pockets of his khaki trousers, leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder. To someone who didn't know any better, he appeared to be engaged in conversation with his step-brother; he nodded and chuckled in response to Eric's monologue, occasionally interjecting with his own undoubtedly snarky comments.

But over the younger boy's shoulder, his eyes were intently fixed on Blair.

A corresponding flush of warmth crept its way up her neck to her cheeks, and she couldn't help smiling at him, biting down on her lower lip to prevent it from turning into a full-scale grin. He smirked back and they held each other's gaze for a long moment… as if savoring their little secret.

Until Serena's deliberate throat clearing snapped her back to reality.

Blair glanced over and saw her friend regarding her with a raised brow, indicating that their eye-sexing hadn't been nearly as discreet as she'd thought.

Sighing inwardly, she returned her attention to the conversation going on around her.

"Did you guys hear about the party at Victrola on Saturday?" Hazel asked in a conspiratorial tone. "Kelsey's brother was there, he said it was _wild_."

"I heard Chuck had a threesome with two of the dancers," Kati whispered, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Dancers? More like hookers," Hazel scoffed.

"Well, I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time," Iz added derisively. "He is _such_ a perv."

Blair's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but she remained silent.

No need to dignify that with a response, she decided. After all, she was like… 95% sure it hadn't happened.

"That's not what you said when you gave him a hand job at my birthday party," Kati snorted.

Iz turned a deep shade of pink, and Blair felt her heart suddenly jump into her throat.

"That was years ago," Iz replied dismissively. "And there was… a lot of alcohol involved."

Sighing in relief, and then berating herself for her overreaction, Blair casually sipped on her latte and avoided Serena's all-too-knowing gaze.

After all, she'd known what she was getting into with this relationship, and if she wanted to avoid people who'd been sexually involved with Chuck… well, she would have to exile herself from Manhattan. Possibly the entire tri-state area.

"Whatever." Kati rolled her eyes. "You were just pissed he didn't call you afterwards."

"Guess it wasn't much of a hand job," Hazel commented snarkily, and the rest of the girls tittered in response.

"I've never understood the point of hand jobs anyway," Kati added. "I mean… can't they just do that themselves?"

"Oh, is that why you've blown half of the lacrosse team?" Iz shot back.

Kati huffed in affront, narrowing her eyes in preparation for a retaliatory insult.

"Hey guys, can we dial back the slut-shaming a little?" Serena interjected suddenly.

Feeling her best friend's sympathetic gaze upon her, Blair felt a brief swell of gratitude at the interruption- followed by the realization that she definitely needed to get her wits together, if her reaction had been obvious enough for Serena to notice.

"Serena's right, ladies," she commented in a haughty voice. "As much as I enjoy hearing about all the boys you've… _pleasured_," she infused the word with as much disdain as possible, "you're not contestants on a trashy reality show, so please try to behave as if you actually had some class."

Suitably chastened, the girls nodded sheepishly, casting their eyes downwards.

"I just can't believe I got stuck with him as my lab partner," Kati groused. "Why is he even taking AP Chem? He obviously couldn't care less about school."

"I think Bart registered for him," Serena offered, with another sideways glance in Blair's direction.

"And how am I supposed to work with someone who isn't even there half the time?" Kati continued as if Serena hadn't spoken. "He didn't show up last Thursday or Friday, so of course he's totally useless with the lab report since he didn't even do the experiment…"

Blair bit her lip, frowning in consternation as Kati continued her tirade on Chuck's chronic absenteeism.

She obviously needed to stage an intervention before he managed to blow his grades for the entire semester. As crazy as she was about him, she couldn't publicly link herself with some kind of… slacker. The word alone was enough to send an unpleasant tremor through her body.

However, she also knew that any academic suggestions on her part would be met with a combination of eye-rolling and mockery from Chuck. As well as an immediate attempt to distract her, probably by sliding his hand up her thigh…

Clearly some subterfuge was in order.

Retrieving her phone from her handbag, she quickly typed out a text message.

_what r u doing this afternoon?_

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him pull his phone out of his pocket, and her own buzzed a few moments later.

_ditching after lunch, u?_

Her brow furrowed as she read his reply. Seriously, he couldn't even make it through today? It was only Monday, for Christ's sake.

This was not an auspicious start to Operation Reform Chuck Bass.

She contemplated her options for a moment before an idea occurred to her, brilliant in its simplicity.

Because all Chuck really needed was proper motivation.

And she knew exactly how to motivate him.

_thats a shame_**_,_ **she texted back.

_y?_ was Chuck's response.

_thinking about taking a study break during 7th,_ she replied, hoping the words came across just as coy as she intended.

They both had study hall during seventh period, so she figured a little romp in the janitor's closet wouldn't distract him too much from his… academic endeavors.

Her fingers fidgeted impatiently with her phone as she waited for it to vibrate again.

_guess i could stick around for that. some 1 on 1 tutoring maybe?_

This was almost too easy, she thought to herself.

She could feel him smirking at her from across the courtyard, and she permitted herself a triumphant little smile as she typed out her response.

_see u at 1_

Sure, maybe it was playing dirty, she conceded as she clicked "Send"- but a little well-intentioned bribery never hurt anyone. Tucking her phone away in her handbag, she glanced back at her circle of minions, the smile still lingering on her lips.

Until she caught Jenny Humphrey studying her shrewdly from across the steps, and her happy expression faded into one of barely-concealed annoyance. The younger girl had been aggravating her for months, and she was rapidly running out of patience.

But at least she had some small consolation- it was only a matter of time now before Jenny's blackmail material became worthless, and then she could cast the little Brooklynite back to the seventh circle of social exile where she belonged.

She allowed herself a brief thrill of pleasure as she imagined that glorious day.

After all, there was nothing quite like a good takedown.

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

Chuck sauntered down the east wing hallway, surreptitiously scanning the brass-plated room numbers out of the corner of his eye.

417, 418… 418-B.

A skeptical frown creased his forehead as he read the placard beneath it.

_The yearbook office?_ he thought in puzzlement, retrieving his phone from his pocket to confirm the room number. He cast a stealthy glance up and down the hallway- ensuring there were no witnesses- before rapping lightly on the door, twisting the knob, and slipping inside.

He immediately came face-to-face with Blair; she was perched on top of a long oak desk, leaning back slightly on both palms, her tights-clad legs swinging beneath her. A beguiling smile crossed her face as she watched him pull the door closed and turn the lock.

"Hey," she murmured, moistening her upper lip with the tip of his tongue.

"Hey yourself," he returned. He gave her an appreciative once-over- down to her dangling feet, clad in navy t-strap pumps, up over her gray tights and pleated plaid skirt, crisp white blouse, navy school blazer, all the way to the red headband adorning her sleek brown curls.

No doubt about it, he thought- his girlfriend was smoking hot.

"So…" He cleared his throat, noticing that her blouse already had several buttons undone. "This is where yearbooks get made?"

"It is," she confirmed with a suggestive smile. "As the newest member of the yearbook committee, you'll probably become… very well-acquainted with it."

"Funny, I don't recall joining any committee…" he said wryly, taking a brief glance around the wood-paneled room. He noted the bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes, several heavy desks holding computers and printers, and a large empty work table.

Multiple flat surfaces, check.

Armless chairs, check.

There was even a conveniently-positioned window sill.

Chuck decided this room had a lot of potential.

"How else do you think you got a study hall pass?" Blair replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Clearly she was under the mistaken assumption that he'd actually bothered going to study hall- a fact that Chuck decided to skirt for the time being.

"So what kind of… time commitment are we talking here?" he asked in mock-deliberation, taking several steps closer.

"Well, the pass is for every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for the rest of the semester," she responded, clearly relishing her position of authority.

"Three times a week, huh?" he mused.

Truth be told, he wasn't in the habit of staying at school until 1pm, and certainly not three times a week- but the promise of Blair-related extracurricular activities was significant incentive.

"What, am I not worth it?" Blair crossed her legs, allowing one high-heeled pump to slip off her heel and swing from her toes.

"Oh no, you are _very_ worth it," he replied with a smirk. "So… what exactly did I do to earn this position?"

"It seems the editor-in-chief has taken quite a liking to you," she replied, her eyes running over him appreciatively as he paced towards her.

"Well, in that case…" he murmured. "I would… consider it an honor."

He stepped up to the desk and she uncrossed her legs, her knees parting to allow him closer, his palms almost tingling in anticipation as they skated over the silky fabric of her tights. Guiding her thighs around his waist, he nestled his hips between them.

God, there was just something about those tights that aroused the fucking hell out of him. Every time he'd seen her that day, strutting down the hall in her little school uniform, all he'd been able to think about was ripping them off.

Preferably with his teeth, although he wasn't particular.

He felt her kicking off her shoes, which fell to the floor behind him with a quiet thud, and run her stocking-clad feet up the back of his thighs. Winding her arms around his shoulders, she slid one hand up to his jaw and cupped it in her palm.

A quiver of excitement rippled through him at the sensation- her fingers caressing the side of his face and trailing down to stroke his neck. Her calves pressed against his ass, pulling him closer to her.

The thrill of her openly wanting him.

"So does this make you my boss?" he asked in a husky voice.

She considered this for a moment, her lips pursed in thoughtfulness.

"Why, I believe it does," she concluded.

He could hear the little hitch in her throat when he pressed himself intimately against her, see the arousal warming her gaze as she peeped up at him through long, dark lashes.

"Well then." His hands slid back up her thighs and under her skirt, grasping her hips with both hands. "What's the first item on my… to do list?"

Her eyes remained fixed on his mouth as she stroked her fingertips around the shell of his ear, running them through the wavy hair curling behind it and pulling him closer.

"Me," she whispered, when their mouths were only inches apart.

Their lips finally met in a feverish kiss. His tongue sought out hers- stroking, thrusting, exploring her mouth with a passion that left them both breathless. After hitching her legs higher around his waist, he slid his hands up to the front of her blouse, popping open several more buttons to reveal a lacy crimson-colored bra.

A push-up bra that prominently displayed the rounded tops of her breasts.

"Very nice," he said against her mouth. "If I'd known _this_ was underneath…" He palmed her breasts through the fabric and teased her nipples with tight, circular movements of his thumbs, eliciting a soft hum from low in her throat. "This shirt would've come off ten minutes ago."

Gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, she pulled his mouth back against hers in an impatient, demanding kiss. They quickly divested each other of their school blazers, hands and fingers fumbling over buttons in their eagerness to reach bare flesh. Chuck didn't bother with her skirt and reached underneath, tugging her tights down over her knees and then to her ankles in two swift motions. She helped him wrestle her feet free from the uncooperative stockings, which were promptly tossed over his shoulder, and pulled him back towards her by his belt buckle.

Chuck barely bit back a moan when he felt her hand slide down past his waist. Their kisses- hot, wet, and aggressive- took on an added urgency as she stroked the growing bulge in the front of his trousers.

And then, with a suddenness that left him dizzy, she pushed him back a step and hopped to her feet, spinning them both around so that he was pressed back against the desk.

"Blair-" he began in a questioning tone, the words catching in his throat when she sank to her knees in front of him.

"Looks like it's your lucky day, Bass," she murmured, a wicked grin tilting her lips as she undid his belt and unzipped his trousers with nimble fingers.

His brain felt sluggish, like it was two steps behind and struggling to grasp what his eyes were telling him.

Because his eyes were telling him that Blair Waldorf was about to blow him.

On school property.

Without even the slightest persuasion on his part.

He considered pinching himself, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming- but then decided he wouldn't want to wake up anyway.

His trousers hit the floor with a swish, followed soon after by his boxer briefs, and an audible breath escaped his lungs when her fingers wrapped around his firm cock. She stroked him, her dainty hand gliding easily over the supple skin, her other hand tracing teasing circles against his upper thigh.

When she paused and looked up at him, lashes fluttering provocatively over deep brown eyes, his entire body tensed in anticipation. The pink tip of her tongue swept across her upper lip and he felt himself twitch in her hand; his eyes remained fixed on her mouth as it slowly, deliberately, teasingly approached his cock.

She finally made contact, pressing an almost chaste kiss against the tip. A low groan rumbled in his throat at the delicious torture, every muscle fiber taut as he struggled to maintain control and not thrust his hips forward. His fingers clenched almost painfully into the desk while she placed feathery kisses down one side of his shaft and up the other, making a little noise of approval as he grew even harder in her hand.

When her tongue darted out, tracing light, playful circles around the swollen head, he closed his eyes to savor the sensation. His breathing became increasingly erratic as she teased him with gentle licks and kisses.

Then her tongue ran up the underside of his shaft in one long, languid stroke- and the resulting stab of desire was so potent, a sound suspiciously like a whimper fell from his lips.

"Please, Blair…" he said in a strained voice, his fingernails leaving indentations in the oak surface.

"Please what?" she asked innocently.

He opened his eyes to see her looking up at him a coy smile. Her gaze stayed locked on his as she gave him several slow, firm pumps with her hand, and he felt his hips arch forward of their own volition.

Finally showing some mercy, Blair took him into her mouth at last- first the head, sliding it across her lips and onto the wet, velvety roughness of her tongue, then gradually increasing the depth of her strokes until half of his length was engulfed in her hot little mouth.

And Chuck watched her through half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily as each stroke sent a throb of pleasure coursing through his body.

Ever since that one time he'd watched her applying lip gloss during English class sophomore year, this exact scenario had been a recurring fantasy of his. The very idea of Blair Waldorf, looking so chaste in her prim little school uniform, going down on him in an abandoned classroom, those glossy red lips wrapped around his cock… it had gotten him through several half-hearted hookups over the years, as well as a number of… solo ventures.

And the fact that it was actually happening could only mean one thing.

There was, in fact, a God. And he loved Chuck Bass.

"Fuck, Blair, that feels incredible," he groaned, releasing his grip on the desk to stroke one hand down the side of her head.

She made a little humming sound, the sensation reverberating all the way up his spine, and he came perilously close to losing control. Pulling his eyes upwards, he tried to concentrate on something, anything, besides the pleasure coiling tightly in his belly. He wanted to savor this experience for as long as possible.

His gaze caught on a pair of gray tights, dangling by one leg from a nearby computer monitor, and he smirked in amusement.

Until he felt the tip of his cock rub against the back of her throat, and his concentration shattered into a million pieces.

"Oh God," he gasped, his eyes rolling back in bliss as she deep-throated him. Between her hot, wet mouth enveloping him and the delicious friction of her tongue, he nearly came right then and there.

Taking several deep breaths, he stroked his fingers across her jaw and then into her hair, using his little remaining self-control to keep his grip relaxed and not pull her forward.

But he couldn't help looking down at her- watching her head bob up and down, hearing the sexy little noises she made. Feeling her lips wrapped tightly around him, gliding in sync with the rhythm of her hand. When she swirled her tongue against his shaft, he inhaled through clenched teeth, fighting in vain against the pleasure threatening to overwhelm him.

"Blair, I can't-" he said desperately. "I'm gonna come-"

He slid his hand down to her shoulder to push her back- but she kept going, quickening her pace. Her tongue stroked relentlessly, torturously, against the sensitive flesh until he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Oh fuck-" he choked out in one last warning, right before the aching tension inside him finally exploded.

A surge of ecstasy coursed through his shuddering body, and he groaned her name, again and again, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he released into her mouth.

Ebbing waves of pleasure continued to wash over him while he sagged back against the desk, grateful for the support of his suddenly weak-kneed body. His brain was still enveloped in post-orgasm fog, his breath coming in rapid, erratic pants, when Blair rose to her feet.

She delicately wiped her mouth with the back of her hand- and he would've chuckled at the fastidious gesture, if every one of his muscles weren't completely slackened with contentment.

"That was…" he trailed off, finishing with a sigh when he found his brain unable to think of words.

Blair just answered with a proud little smirk.

She stroked her hands down his chest, loosening his tie and working at the buttons of his shirt. When she began pressing a trail of kisses along his jaw, he felt a flush of heat ripple down his neck.

"I might need a few minutes to…. recover," he said apologetically.

She pulled back to look at him, and he couldn't help grinning at the pouty expression on her face.

Then, with a swift movement, he grasped her hips and spun her around. She squealed softly in surprise as he lifted her up to the edge of the desk, returning them to their prior position.

"But…" He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Perhaps I can entertain you in the meantime?"

He slid his hands up her bare thighs and traced along the lacy edge of her panties. Slipping one finger beneath, he skimmed along her velvety folds, drawing a breath of surprise at how wet she was.

"Mmm, what do we have here?" he murmured, drawing back to study her face. He stroked towards the apex of her sex and caressed the slick, swollen nub with circular motions. "Does it get you hot to suck me off?"

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, a naughty little grin curving her mouth- and the mere sight was so arousing, he felt an immediate rush of blood to his groin. Perhaps his second wind would arrive sooner than expected, he thought.

As their mouths met again in a passionate kiss, the taste of him still lingering on her tongue, he wondered to himself how he'd gotten so fucking lucky.

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

Jenny strolled down the corridor, dangling a hall pass carelessly on her index finger. She took her time - after all, she was in no hurry to return to Mr. O'Connell's riveting monologue on cell division- and was about to bend over the water fountain for a drink when a door opened further down the hall.

Spotting Blair's trademark headband, she took a quick step back into the shadows and watched as the brunette scanned the hallway. Apparently satisfied that it was empty, she quietly rapped on the door she'd come out of before turning to stroll off in the other direction.

She looked immaculate as usual- her hair perfectly coiffed, her makeup flawless, her outfit expertly coordinated.

Except her skirt was on sideways.

Jenny's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she watched Blair round the far corner, leaving the corridor empty. But within seconds, the door opened again and Chuck stepped out, pulling it closed behind him.

He didn't look anywhere near as put-together as Blair- his tie was crooked, his hair was mussed, and he was still tucking one shirt-tail into his pants. And he had a smug look of self-satisfaction on his face, like the cat that ate the canary.

Or did _something_ to the canary, anyway, she thought disgustedly.

Realizing that she'd probably never have a better opportunity to put her plan into motion, Jenny steeled her nerves and strode towards him.

"Hey Chuck," she greeted him, her cheerful, confident tone belying the nerves churning inside her.

Startled, he spun around, his hands still adjusting the belt of his trousers.

"Oh, it's you," he replied disinterestedly, and looked her over for a beat. "Well, it was nice catching up with you, Jenny," he finished in a bored tone, and moved to brush past her.

Jenny's hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks.

Chuck looked down at her hand and then back up at her face, a hint of disbelief in his narrowed hazel eyes.

"Can I _help_ you?" he asked in annoyance.

She hastily released his arm- honestly, she'd surprised herself by even having the nerve to touch him, that was definitely not part of the plan- and resisted the urge to wipe her now-perspiring palm down the side of her skirt.

"I think maybe we can help each other," she offered coyly, feigning self-assurance she didn't quite feel.

Chuck snorted out a mirthless laugh.

"That seems… highly unlikely to me," he replied in a dry tone, straightening his tie. "Now run along, Little J. Charity cases can't afford to cut class."

Jenny felt her hackles rise.

"Oh, but I assure you that we do share one common interest," she said in a cool voice that betrayed none of her anger. "Namely, the girl you just had sex with."

Chuck's fingers momentarily froze, pausing over the striped knot of silk before continuing their task. He turned to meet her gaze, the guarded depths of his eyes revealing nothing.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to be more specific," he replied evenly.

Jenny's lips curved into a sickly sweet smile.

"More _specifically_," she clarified, her tone hardening. "unless you want everyone to find out what's going on between you and Blair… I think you're going to want to listen to what I have to say."

At that moment, voices could be heard echoing through the hallway, growing louder as they approached. Grasping her by the arm, Chuck propelled her into the small room, shutting the door behind them with a snap. He released her arm immediately and took several steps backwards.

"Are you trying to _blackmail_ me?" he asked with an arch of his eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and incredulity in his expression.

"I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial agreement," she replied, unperturbed.

"Ah, but you miscalculated," he said in a deceptively smooth tone. "Because I don't _care_ if people find out. So there's no benefit on my end."

The hardness of his gaze unnerved her, but she'd come prepared for this argument.

"You know, I think Nate might care," she said, tapping one finger against her cheek in mock-deliberation. "I also think… Blair might."

And there it was- the flash of some indiscernible emotion in his otherwise impassive eyes.

It disappeared in an instant, replaced by a look of contempt.

"So you want me to do you some… _favor_," he emphasized the word with derision. "In exchange for sparing Nate and Blair's feelings?"

"Well, not just in exchange for that." she paused deliberately. "Because the favor benefits you as well."

"Does it now," he said, clearly unconvinced.

She nodded.

"And what is it, exactly?"

The cold hostility in his eyes would've scared off a lesser opponent, she thought with an inward shiver- but she straightened her spine and met his glare head-on.

"Oh, not much… just a suggestive word or two, dropped in Nate's ear," Jenny replied calmly. "About a girl he may be interested in going out with."

"_You_?" Chuck scoffed, and she felt her insides clench in resentment.

"Yes, _me_," she spat back.

She took a deep breath and tried to rein in her temper.

"Nate and I have shared… a few moments," she continued in a calmer tone. "We just never had a chance to move forward because he was always with Blair. Now that that's no longer the case…" she trailed off with a deliberate shrug.

"So you want me to convince Nate to ask you out," Chuck stated, a note of suspicion lingering in his voice.

"That's right," she replied with a devious little smile. "Rumor has it you can be… very convincing."

He tilted his head to the side, acknowledging the backhanded compliment.

"I fail to see how this benefits me in any way," he commented, still eying her warily.

"Because you want Blair all to yourself," Jenny said shrewdly. "And how long do you think that would last if Nate suddenly wanted her back?"

Chuck said nothing, a muscle in his jaw twitching almost imperceptibly as he stared back at her.

"But if I keep him occupied," she continued. "He won't be a threat."

"And what makes you think I consider him a threat?" Chuck asked tersely, his face fixed into an expressionless mask.

"I dunno, maybe spending your entire life watching Blair doodle 'Mrs. Nathaniel Archibald' in her diary?" Jenny shrugged. "Watching her go back to him over and over again?"

She paused for effect.

"The fact that she dumped you for him once already?"

She knew she'd hit a nerve when she saw his nostrils flared slightly in response.

And there, finally, was her proof- Chuck Bass had a weakness.

"So I figure this way… we both get what we want," she continued in the same smooth, calculating tone.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for a reply- but he remained silent for a long moment, just studying her with that intense, disconcerting stare of his.

It made her feel like a bug under a magnifying glass, but she maintained her composure.

"Fine," he said shortly. "But I can't make any promises. Nate isn't going to do something just because I tell him to."

Jenny allowed herself a small smirk of satisfaction.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do your very, very best," she replied, patting him on the shoulder in the most patronizing way possible. "Pleasure doing business with you, Chuck."

"The pleasure is all yours," he said dryly, watching with hooded eyes as she exited the room.

Jenny had barely taken two steps out the door before her lips parted to reveal a radiant grin, and she allowed herself to half-walk, half-skip down the hallway towards homeroom.

God, there was nothing quite like a good takedown.

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

"Can you at least try to play defense this time?" Nate chided, tossing the basketball over to Chuck before stooping to tie his sneakers.

Chuck rolled his eyes and idly spun the ball back and forth between his palms.

Basketball wasn't really his sport of choice, but Nate got fed up with getting repeatedly owned on the squash court, so they tried to alternate every week or so.

"I mean, seriously, it's more challenging to shoot over Eric, and he's like five foot four," Nate went on, arching his eyebrows in challenge as he rose to his feet.

"I'll do my best," Chuck replied sardonically.

Resolving to put up more of a fight this time, he bounced the ball back over to Nate, unzipped the jacket of his track suit and tossed it on a nearby bench.

A scant five minutes later, having just been burned by three long-range jump-shots and two left-handed layups in a row, he was panting in exertion.

"10-2," Nate noted with some satisfaction, palming the ball with both hands. "Seriously dude, it's like you're not even trying."

Chuck narrowed his eyes and swiped at his sweaty forehead with one hand.

Nate dribbled the ball back and forth between his legs a few times, clearly showing off, before driving to the left- and Chuck scrambled to stay in front of him, reaching in to swipe the ball away with a quick dart of his hand.

Unfortunately, his lunging grab ended in a full-body collision. Knocked suddenly off-balance, their feet tangling underneath them, the two boys toppled onto the court in a sweaty heap.

Nate laughed as he rolled up to a seated position, brushing the dirt off of his warmup pants.

"Guess I had that coming," he commented drolly. "Water break?"

Chuck smirked and pulled himself to his feet. He dusted himself off as well, retrieving the wayward basketball before joining Nate on the sidelines.

"Hey, are you bringing anyone to the wedding this weekend?" Nate asked, in between long swallows from his water bottle.

Chuck scoffed.

"You know I always go stag to weddings, Nathaniel," he replied irreverently. "Why chain myself to one person for the evening with that kind… of variety at my disposal?"

The words sounded the same as always- just the right note of indifference, with a side of snarky innuendo- but somehow the sentiment felt more forced than usual.

"Meaning… you plan on hooking up with one of the bridemaids in the coat closet," Nate replied in amusement.

"Something like that." Chuck gave him a wry grin. "But you… do not have nearly the kind of game that requires, unfortunately."

Nate laughed, shooting him a look of mock-offense. "Hey, I know how to pick up girls!"

"You've spent your entire post-pubescent life in a relationship, and you've had sex with two women, total, both of whom basically threw themselves at you," Chuck summarized. "So no, I'm not convinced you have any idea how to pick up girls."

Nate sighed, acknowledging the accuracy of that barb. "Maybe I'll just stand still and look pretty?" he suggested.

Chuck laughed and shook his head. The sad thing was that Nate was probably right. After all, plenty of girls would fall all over themselves to-

A bolt of inspiration hit him as he realized this was the perfect opportunity to honor his little arrangement with Jenny Humphrey.

"That might work," he drawled, "but you'll have slim pickings at best- especially with me in the same room." He ducked to avoid the gym towel that Nate playfully threw at his head. "I'm serious, Nathaniel. If you want any female company that evening, your best bet is to bring it yourself," he concluded in a voice laden with innuendo.

Nate's brow furrowed in contemplation.

"Yeah, I thought about that," he admitted, tossing the water bottle over to Chuck. "But it's less than a week away, most of the girls already have dates."

Chuck nodded and pretended to consider this problem for a moment.

"Well, you know who probably doesn't," he offered, as if it had just occurred to him. "Jenny."

"Jenny Humphrey?" Nate replied skeptically.

"Yeah," Chuck said in a casual tone, as if this were a completely logical suggestion. "I mean, you guys are kind of friends, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Nate agreed, his forehead still slightly creased in uncertainty.

"And she's pretty… cute, I mean, she's all… blonde…" Chuck trailed off. "You like blondes, right?"

Shit, this was harder than he'd expected. Usually he was far more adept at lying, but singing Jenny Humphrey's praises was proving to be quite a challenge.

"Yeah, she's definitely cute," Nate agreed. He picked up the basketball and spun it atop his fingers, staring at it as it rotated around.

"And I doubt she's ever been to a society wedding before," Chuck added, unable to keep a hint of mockery from creeping into his voice. "You'd probably make her entire year."

Nate nodded, clearly pleased by the idea of himself as the noble benefactor -the white knight- doing a favor for some impoverished little Brooklynite.

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea, she's pretty fun to hang out with," he mused. "Maybe I'll give her a call."

Like shooting fish in a barrel, Chuck thought to himself, taking a long drink of water to hide his smirk.

"I wasn't going to go with anyone because I didn't want to upset Blair," Nate commented. "You know, like, I didn't want her to think I'd started dating someone else right away?"

Chuck nodded, still holding the water bottle to his lips to hide his expression.

"But my mom told me she's going with Carter Baizen," Nate continued with evident disgust. "Can you believe that?"

Chuck nearly choked mid-swallow, wondering for a moment if he'd misheard.

"Are you serious?" he finally got out, his attempt at scorn sounding more strained than usual.

"I know, right?" Nate shook his head. "I think maybe she's trying to make me jealous. I mean, it's like cotillion all over again."

The mere mention of that event was enough to make Chuck's heart clench. He turned to place the water bottle back on the bench, using sheer force of will to keep his expression composed.

"I mean, I'm fine with her dating someone else," Nate clarified, his words sounding entirely unconvincing to Chuck's ears. "It's just that it's Carter, you know? The guy's a jerk. Otherwise I wouldn't even care."

"Of course not," Chuck murmured distractedly.

"It's not like I'm expecting her to wait around for me," Nate added with unusual haste. "I mean, we said maybe in the future we could work things out, but, you know, she's free to date whoever she wants in the meantime. I'm totally fine with that."

The more Nate talked, the more Chuck felt sick to his stomach.

In the _meantime_? Was that all he was to Blair? Just one of many little…excursions during her temporary Nate-hiatus?

Possibly along with _Carter fucking Baizen_?

He couldn't even begin to process this right now.

"That's enough girl talk for now, Nathaniel," he forced himself to say with a bored sigh. "Let's get back to our game."

Nate bounded to his feet like an eager puppy and tossed the basketball back towards Chuck.

"Remember, you're down 10-2," he cheerfully called out over his shoulder as he jogged back onto the court.

Suddenly hit by the cosmic significance of Nate's words, Chuck fought hard to repress a groan.

Oh, there was a God, all right. And he hated Chuck Bass.

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed! Thoughts on how their respective schemes are going to turn out? A) Splendidly, B) Trainwreck, C) Hot Sex, D) All of the above? As always, You + Reviews = Me + Very Happy.

Unrelated note: I also wrote a S5 two-shot you can find on my profile. It is rather… smutty and angsty. Smangsty?

**Show related note: if you're interested in helping tweet some CB love during the 100****th**** episode on Monday (and you should be!), please visit the savechuckandblair tumblr for details :)**

As always, thanks to Terrabeth for all of her betaing and help reworking this chapter, as well a riveting discussion about the merits of BJs in fanfic.

And thanks to my favorite people in the whole world: _13maggi13, CBfanhere, Gem15stone, chaval, ellibells, annablake, Eternally Romantic, katharienne, Rossiee, notoutforawalk, Questacious, dreamgurl, S, GGfan73104, bfan, cb, CBBW3words8letters, maryl, LeftWriter224, Aliennut, Bellemme, Holyhead Harpies, Prinniegg, Arazadia, primadonna001, mlharper, livelybass, TerraBeth, aliceeeebeth, and msboskiera._


	16. Kiss with a Fist

**A/N:** It's been awhile since I updated this, so it might be helpful to reread the last scene of Chap 15. Also… this is rated M.

**Chapter 16: Kiss with a Fist**

_You hit me once_  
><em>I hit you back<em>  
><em>You gave a kick<em>  
><em>I gave a slap<em>  
><em>You smashed a plate over my head<em>  
><em>Then I set fire to our bed<em>

_-Florence and the Machine_

After pausing to check her reflection one last time, Blair adjusted the oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. She tucked a few stray curls beneath her cashmere headscarf and made sure the ends were tied securely underneath her chin.

She looked just like Jackie O., she decided with a nod of approval, and snapped her compact mirror shut.

Satisfied with her disguise, she stepped out of the towncar and strode towards the wrought iron gates of the Palace courtyard, tugging up the collar of her wool coat as she walked.

Of course, it wasn't unusual for her to visit Chuck's suite, so her presence alone wouldn't be cause for suspicion- but since these late-night trysts were likely to become a regular occurrence, she figured better safe than sorry.

Once she was inside the elevator and headed to floor 18, she pulled her phone out of her pocket to check her messages again.

Still nothing since she'd texted him earlier that afternoon.

_still on for 10?_

_see u then_

(Just "see u then"? she thought indignantly. No "can't wait" or "miss u" or "don't wear panties"?)

She realized that she'd heard very little from Chuck since their rendezvous at school the day before. He'd been too busy to talk on the phone that night, and his replies to her text messages- even the flirty ones- had been brief and noncommittal. And somehow they hadn't even seen each other at school all day long.

She had to admit, his aloofness worried her a little. It produced just a hint of that nagging fear she always used to feel with Nate- the suspicion that something was wrong, no matter how many times he reassured her otherwise.

But she convinced herself that she was just overreacting. After all, Chuck was new at relationships, and he probably had no idea how insecure and crazy she could get from analyzing the hidden meanings in a three-word text message. And she didn't want to freak him out, so she figured it was best to keep most of her relationship neuroses on the DL- at least for the time being.

Upon arriving at room 1812, she removed the scarf and sunglasses and tucked them neatly inside of her purse, and then rapped on the door. She frowned when she didn't hear a response, knocking once more before swiping her keycard and pushing the door open.

Her eyes went immediately to Chuck, who was sitting on the living room sofa with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a tumbler of scotch dangling carelessly from one hand.

And her heart dropped in her chest when she saw the expression on his face.

"Hey," she greeted him with forced brightness, dropping her bag on one of the bar stools and draping her coat across the back.

"Hey," he responded coolly, not meeting her gaze. He swirled the glass in his hand and eyed it with inordinate interest.

"I missed you at school today," she commented.

He nodded, but remained silent.

"We're still on for our… committee meeting tomorrow afternoon, right?" she said breezily, trying to disguise her growing dread.

When Chuck finally raised his eyes to meet hers, she realized that it wasn't boredom or disinterest reflected back at her.

He looked… pissed.

She swallowed tightly, disconcerted by how much this unnerved her.

"Chuck, what's..." she faltered, fidgeting with the folds of her skirt. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, Blair," he responded with a pointed shrug. "You tell me."

She stared back at him, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Is there maybe something… you neglected to mention earlier?" he went on in a frosty tone.

"Oh!" The syllable escaped her in a sudden exhalation. "Carter…"

"Oh yes, _about_ Carter," he went on with affected nonchalance. "Perhaps you could explain why you're going on a date with him this weekend?"

"I told you, it's not a date-" she began.

"And why I had to find this out from _Nate_, of all people?" he continued as if she hadn't spoken, his jaw taut with annoyance.

"Nate?" she echoed. "How did he even know?"

"Not really the point, Blair," Chuck said sharply.

She sighed, nodding in acknowledgement, and took a seat on the sofa next to him.

"Okay, I know, I should've told you earlier," she admitted. "And I was going to, before the wedding, I just… hadn't gotten around to it yet…"

She trailed off, realizing that none of this sounded terribly convincing- and he simply stared back at her, his expression tense and implacable.

"Chuck, it was my mom's idea, I don't even want to go with him. I promise you have no reason to be upset," she insisted.

"I am not… _upset_," he interrupted, emphasizing the word with distaste.

It was his immediate denial- the disgust in his voice at the very suggestion- that made her realize exactly how upset he was.

"Chuck," she said softly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I put it off because I was afraid you might get ups- annoyed, and things have been going so well… between us…" She averted her eyes, feeling her cheeks flush.

Talking about their relationship face-to-face, sober, and fully-dressed, was not something that felt entirely natural yet.

"I guess I just didn't want to… cause problems," she finally concluded.

He was quiet for a moment, and she glanced back over to find him staring down into his glass.

"So nothing's… going on with Carter?" he asked abruptly.

She blinked in surprise.

"What?" she snorted. "Of course not. Carter's an ass."

"So am I," he pointed out, a hint of dark humor in his voice.

The corner of her mouth quirked up.

"Yes," she agreed playfully. "But you're _my_ ass."

She reached out to place her hand over his and felt him tense at the unexpected contact.

"It doesn't matter who takes me to this wedding, Chuck. We agreed to be monogamous," she reminded him.

She ran her hand across the back of his, feeling the tendons flex beneath her fingertips.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he replied in a gruff tone.

"So are you about done being jealous then?" she teased him.

"Jealous?" he repeated in disbelief. "I'm not… _jealous_."

Feeling assured that the crisis was now averted, she pulled herself up on to her knees and swung one leg over his lap, straddling him against the back of the sofa.

"You are totally jealous," she countered, tracing her thumb across his full lower lip, which was protruding just slightly. "And it's… adorable."

He narrowed his eyes at her, indicating his disapproval of her word choice.

But then he placed his glass of scotch on the side table and wrapped his hands around her waist.

"Maybe just a little," he conceded, looking slightly disgruntled by the admission.

She gave a playful smile before leaning in to kiss him. Capturing his lower lip between both of hers, she gently sucked on it, dragging her teeth along the inside until she heard his breath quicken.

"Don't be," she murmured against his mouth, and then pulled a few inches away from him, just enough to look him in the eyes, and touched him softly on the cheek. "I'm _your_ girl."

Chuck didn't say anything- just gazed up at her, lips slightly parted, thumbs stroking idly against her hipbones. But she could see the warmth, the affection softening his caramel-colored eyes.

That contented little smile that was reserved for her and her alone.

She was the only one who got to see this side of him- and it never failed to make her insides quiver.

"You know… I think we just had our first fight," she declared, her lips curving into a grin.

"You say that like it's a good thing," Chuck replied, the skepticism in his voice offset by his slightly erratic breathing, as she began to press kisses along his jawline.

Her mouth found that especially sensitive spot right below his ear, and his head tilted back to allow her better access, his neck growing taut as she stroked it with her tongue.

"Because it means we can have our first make-up sex," she whispered against his ear.

She caught the lobe between her teeth and nibbled on it, relishing the feel of him growing hard beneath her. Slowly, purposefully, she rolled her hips, grinding her body against him until they were both breathing heavily.

"I like the way you think, Waldorf," he replied in a husky voice.

Sliding his hands under her skirt to cradle her ass, he rolled her over onto the sofa.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Hey Jen," Dan said absentmindedly, as his sister came through the front door in a flurry of blonde hair and shopping bags. He barely glanced up from his book, but he did a double-take when he saw what she was carrying.

"Is that from Bergdorf's?" he asked, staring at the label on the garment bags slung over her arm.

Jenny continued past him, unperturbed.

Frowning, he dog-eared his page and tossed the book onto the sofa before following his sister to her bedroom. He stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, watching her spread her purchases out across the bed.

"How did you pay for all that?" he finally asked.

"Dad's credit card," she replied with a casual shrug.

"_Jen,_" he admonished her. "Are you serious? That's like… thousands of dollars worth of stuff!"

She sighed, looking annoyed by the lecture.

"Which is exactly why I'm not keeping it," she replied.

"What do you mean, you're not keeping it?" Dan's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm going to make my own version, and return it," she explained, as if talking to a small child. "I had to buy them both because I wasn't sure I'd be able to find the right shade of silk to match the Badgley Mischka…"

Unzipping one of the garment bags, she pulled out an emerald-green gown and hung it on the back of her closet door. Turning back to the bed, she rummaged through one of the bags from Mood and retrieved a long swath of identical silk chiffon, spreading it out across her work table with a quick snap of her wrist.

"And the shoes?" Dan asked skeptically, eying the boxes that Jenny had stacked by the foot of her bed. "Are you also a cobbler now?"

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"I put sole protectors on them so the bottoms don't scuff, then I can return them afterwards," she explained.

Dan opened his mouth to point out the questionable morality of this plan, but, after spotting the mutinous expression on Jenny's face, thought better of it.

"After what, exactly?" he asked. "I thought you already had a dress for the Snowflake ball."

"I do, this is for the Prentice wedding this weekend," she replied with just a hint of triumph in her tone.

"Wait, you got invited to that?" Dan asked, taken aback. "How?"

"Oh, Nate asked me to go with him," Jenny said in an airy tone, as if that sort of thing happened to her every day.

Dan stared at her for a beat.

"Nate… Archibald… asked you on a date?" he asked in disbelief.

Jenny nodded smugly.

"But…" he trailed off, turning this development over in his mind.

On the one hand, Nate going out with another girl kept him away from Serena, so that was a definite plus. On the other hand, Nate going out with his little sister meant… Nate was going out with his little sister.

That was a definite minus.

He stood in silence for a moment as his brain attempted to do the math.

"Dan." Jenny blew out an annoyed breath. "Can we just preempt the whole protective big brother routine? It's not like I've never gone out with guys before."

"You've gone out with _one guy_ before," Dan corrected her. "And he was gay."

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not appreciating the reminder.

"Well, it was inevitable that I would find a heterosexual to date sooner or later, they're only like 90% of the population," she replied frostily. "And could you at least _pretend_ to be happy for me? I mean, you would've given your left arm for a date with Serena when you were a sophomore."

The realization that Jenny was almost as old as he'd been when he'd started dating Serena was an uncomfortable one. His little sister, Dan decided, was growing up way too quickly.

But she did have a point. Perhaps he should try being more of a supportive older brother, and less of a… black raincloud of judgment.

Besides, Nate did seem like a decent enough guy, aside from the fact that he barely had two neurons to rub together.

"You're right, Jen," he conceded. "I'm sure you two will have a… great time together."

"Thanks," she replied, her voice distorted by the handful of pins she was holding in her mouth. She'd already begun marking off her pattern on a swath of muslin, and he just watched her work for a moment, awed by her ability to create garments seemingly out of thin air.

"So…" He cleared his throat. "Do you know if Serena's going with anyone, or if maybe she might need a, umm…"

"Oh, I heard she's going with Quinn," Jenny said absentmindedly.

"Quinn?" he echoed in disbelief.

"I don't think it's a date, they're just going as friends," she added.

"He doesn't even have a neck…" Dan muttered under his breath.

"Besides," she went on. "He's probably doing you a favor. After an evening spent trying to carry on a conversation with that guy, she'll be begging for a dose of your pretentious pseudo-intellectualism."

Dan frowned at the backhanded compliment.

"So says the girl going with Nate Archibald," he commented snidely, but Jenny merely rolled her eyes.

She did have a point though, he reflected. After all, Serena had been eager to reunite after their summer apart. Maybe all she needed was a little time to miss him. Maybe just another week or so… then he could start wooing her again in earnest. And maybe if he'd finally worked out the conclusion of his short story by then, he could give her a copy of it, and she would be moved to tears by his poignant depiction of their epic romance.

Maybe he'd throw in some flowers too. Girls loved flowers.

Mumbling a goodnight to his sister, Dan headed back to his own room, resolving to work through his writer's block as soon as possible.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"What do you think, man?"

Chuck glanced over to Nate, who was standing in front of the full-length mirror, holding up three vests in varying shades and patterns against his charcoal tuxedo jacket.

"Green?" Chuck questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Seems a little… colorful for you."

He spread his feet at Vincenzo's urging, the gray-haired tailor kneeling on the dais to press a measuring tape along his inseam.

"Well, Jenny told me her dress was green, so…" Nate shrugged, studying one of the vests as if he were trying to see a Magic Eye illusion in them.

"You're not matching a bridesmaid dress here, Nathaniel," Chuck pointed out. "Think… complimentary colors."

Nate responded with a blank stare.

"Silver," Chuck added succinctly, trying not to roll his eyes.

Nodding obediently, Nate returned to the rack of vests, returning with a handful of swatches for Chuck's examination. He cast a brief glance over them before gesturing towards a muted pewter shade.

"Arms," Vincenzo ordered, his heavy Italian accent muffled by a mouthful of pins, and Chuck relaxed his arms against his sides, allowing the tailor to measure the fit of his jacket across the shoulders.

"Really?" Nate studied the swatches with a furrowed brow. "Because this one is more silver…" He picked up a metallic fabric, vaguely reminiscent of a disco ball, and held it up against his jacket.

Chuck and Vincenzo eyed his selection with equivalent looks of derision.

"Except you're not going to a prom in the 80s," Chuck pointed out wryly.

Vincenzo muttered something in Italian about _gigolos_.

Nate sighed in concession, replacing the rejected swatches back on the rack.

"Usually Blair just picks out something for me," he explained. "You know, so it matches whatever she's wearing…"

"Well, it's never too late to… learn how to dress yourself," Chuck murmured, and then snorted with laughter at Nate's affronted expression.

"Whatever," Nate grumbled. He cast a disparaging eye over Chuck's white dinner jacket and black trousers. "What about you? Do you think you're starring in a Bond movie or something?"

"It's classic, Nathaniel," Chuck replied, unperturbed.

He smoothed down the lapels of his tuxedo, assessing his reflection in the three-way mirror; he could totally pull off Bond, he decided.

But more importantly, it would go perfectly with Blair's gown- an elegant, backless black and white number that would look absolutely mouth-watering on her petite frame. She hadn't shown it to him, but he'd happened to catch a glimpse of it the other day.

After giving her seamstress a hundred and his most charming smile.

Just because he and Blair weren't _technically_ each other's dates didn't mean they shouldn't coordinate, he reasoned. Surely they'd get in a few turns around the dance floor- always keeping a socially-appropriate distance, of course. Looking for all the world like a couple of old friends.

Except they'd be covertly eye-fucking the hell out of each other, waiting for the moment when they were finally alone… and could do it with more than just their eyes.

There was something so delightfully naughty about playing platonic at an uptight society function.

Feeling the stirring of his body in response, Chuck decided he should probably corral his thoughts before poor Vincenzo had quite the tailoring situation on his hands.

"You've got to be kidding me," he heard Nate suddenly mutter.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he glanced up to find a most unwelcome sight.

Carter Baizen.

He was leaning against the front counter on his elbows, surveying the small shop with a disinterested expression. His posture was relaxed, his entire body radiating that carefully-cultivated air of bored superiority that came from being too rich to give a shit about anything or anyone.

Chuck knew it well- he'd seen it in the mirror for the better part of a decade.

But that didn't make him hate the smarmy little prick any less.

Carter's gaze landed on them. He smirked.

"Archibald," he drawled. "Bass."

Chuck could feel his jaw clench in annoyance.

"Baizen," he replied shortly.

"You two getting all gussied up for the festivities this weekend?" Carter inquired, a humorous note to his voice.

Chuck said nothing, his only response a contemptuous stare.

"Didn't know you were back in town, Carter," Nate commented, making little effort to disguise the antagonism in his typically genial voice.

"Yeah, I'm interning at my dad's firm starting next week," Carter replied with a disinterested shrug. "Something about… 'straightening up and getting my act together'. You know how it is."

His gaze landed back on Chuck for a moment.

"Or maybe you don't," he added with a hint of dark amusement.

Nate snorted.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," he muttered.

"Aww, why so serious, Archibald?" Carter asked, his brow furrowed with feigned curiosity. "You worried I'm gonna dance a little too close to your ex-girlfriend again?"

Nate remained silent, glowering through his tawny manbangs.

"I mean, my relationship with Blair is purely platonic, but if she wants a shoulder a cry on…" Carter trailed off with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. "Who am I to refuse a woman in need?"

Chuck felt his chest tighten, and opened his mouth to reply- until he saw Nate stiffen in outrage out of the corner of his eye, and remembered that the lewd insinuation wasn't meant for him.

He bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue.

"Blair wouldn't touch you," Nate replied sharply. "She's got better taste than that."

Carter chuckled.

"Yeah, maybe," he allowed. "But you know, it's remarkable what a recent breakup and a couple of drinks will do to a girl's… taste level."

At that moment, Vincenzo's wife appeared from the back room, a tuxedo draped over her arm in a clear plastic garment bag.

"Waldorf?" she read off the tag.

"That's me," Carter replied drolly, taking the bag from her grasp and holding it up for a quick examination.

White tuxedo jacket. Black trousers.

Chuck's eyes widened in disbelief.

Carter glanced over at him, and then back at the garment bag, his eyes twinkling with barely-concealed mirth.

"Oh, don't fret, Bass," he said mockingly. "There's no shame in looking like a knockoff version of me. Which… let's face it, is pretty much what you are anyway…"

Chuck gritted his teeth in annoyance.

God damn, he hated that fucker.

"Well, it's been fun catching up…" Carter's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, his lips still twisted into a patronizing smirk. "But I've got to be going. See you boys Saturday."

The bell hanging on the top of the front door chimed softly as he departed, echoing through the tension-filled room.

Chuck swallowed down the aggravation tightening his throat.

He told himself it didn't matter that Carter had practically announced his plans to make a move on Blair. Or that Nate was clearly peeved by the entire situation, for reasons that Chuck preferred to not consider too carefully.

Because Blair was _his_ girl now.

A stab of possessiveness twinged in his gut, a reaction that was starting to occur with disconcerting frequency; apparently his transition from commitment-phobe to jealous boyfriend had taken all of a week.

Sighing at the irony, Chuck glanced down at his outfit and felt another burst of annoyance.

"Vincenzo, I need a different jacket," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders out of the one he was wearing and holding it out on the end of his index finger. "In black."

Nate snorted.

"Aww, are you upset Carter's wearing the same dress to the ball as you?" he asked teasingly.

"Shut it, Nathaniel."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Champagne?"

Blair glanced back from the window to the proffered flute.

"It's barely 4PM, Carter," she replied derisively. "You really can't wait two more hours until the reception?"

Carter rolled his eyes, bringing the flute to his own lips and taking a long swig. "Don't be such a buzzkill, Waldorf," he muttered.

Blair narrowed her eyes at him, choosing not to dignify that with a response.

She couldn't put her finger on precisely what it was about him, but Carter Baizen had this certain way of radiating smugness, this almost mocking way of talking to her, that just… rankled. It made her yearn for a chance to put him in his place, preferably with a well-timed, caustic piece of wit. Or perhaps a sharp kick to the shin.

On the other hand, he _was_ an appropriate escort to a society event; her mother had certainly been right about that. And they did look quite eye-catching together. His tuxedo was the perfect foil to her gown, the white of his jacket setting off the embroidery on her bodice exactly the way she'd envisioned.

Although his hair was too light, and slicked back with some sort of greasy substance that made him appear even smarmier than usual. And his eyes were too light as well, lacking the depth and intensity of a darker pair. Dark like coffee, dotted with tawny flecks that appeared almost gold in the light… narrowing just so when they raked over her figure, as if contemplating all the things he wanted to do to her…

Feeling the car roll to a stop, Blair shook her head sharply to regain her wits.

Within moments, the inside of the limo was whirling with pink chiffon and blonde hair, Serena greeting them both enthusiastically as she hopped in and took a seat beside Blair. Quinn followed more sedately behind, looking appropriate enough in his tuxedo- a mere prop to Serena's effortless radiance.

"Ooh, champagne!" Serena flashed a wide grin as Carter poured her a glass.

"Glad to see at least one of you is planning on having some fun tonight," he commented dryly, with a challenging look in Blair's direction.

"Aww, come on, B!" Serena coaxed, giving her a playful nudge as she took a sip of her drink.

Feeling three sets of eyes fixed on her, Blair conceded with a sigh and held out her hand grudgingly.

She soon discovered the champagne did wonders for her mood. It also made her feel pleasantly light-headed, but that probably had something to do with the fact that she hadn't eaten all day.

And Serena's high spirits were infectious as usual, so the two girls were soon giggling together as they discussed the goldmine of gossip that was certain to lie in store for them that evening. Mixing Manhattan's elite with six hours of open bar was a foolproof recipe for scandal.

"I can't believe Nate's bringing Jenny," Serena commented, shaking her head in bewilderment. "I mean, I don't think they're dating or anything, but… how did that even happen? It's not like they ever hang out."

"Hell if I know," Blair said disdainfully. "Little J might as well have 'social climber' tattooed across her forehead, Nate's just too clueless to realize it."

"Come on, she's not that bad," Serena protested, her brow creasing earnestly.

"She'll probably be wearing one of my hand-me-downs," Blair continued, contempt dripping from every word. "It's not like she has anything else to wear."

Serena frowned.

"I thought you two were friends," she said, confused. "I mean, you did pick her to co-chair the Snowflake ball committee."

"Yes, well…" Blair hesitated.

For a moment, she'd forgotten that Serena had no idea why she'd befriended Jenny in the first place. Initially she'd kept it to herself because Serena was still with Dan, and after that she just figured it was best to avoid any mention of her tryst with Chuck.

"All I'm saying is that I recognize conniving when I see it," she said finally, adding a haughty sniff for good measure.

"Or maybe you're just pissed because she's moving in on your territory," Carter interjected with a knowing grin.

"Nobody hit your buzzer, Carter," she shot back.

"Hey, if you want to use me to make Archibald jealous…" He smirked suggestively. "I'm more than willing to oblige."

Blair shot him a look of disgust, which only seemed to increase his amusement.

"Oh, we're here!" Serena announced excitedly as they pulled to a stop in front of the church. "Does my hair look okay, B?" she asked, shaking it artlessly over her shoulders.

Blair evaluated the blonde mane with a critical eye; it framed Serena's face in loose, shiny waves, the strands catching and reflecting the late afternoon sunlight until it glimmered like spun gold.

She looked like she'd just walked out of a shampoo commercial.

"It looks perfect," Blair said at last, resisting the urge to smooth a hand across her own meticulously-coiffed updo.

The four of them made their way into the church, past the clusters of paparazzi camped out to catch a glimpse of the happy couple- even among jaded Manhattanites, the marriage of a Rockefeller was still a momentous occasion.

Once they were seated, Blair discreetly looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Chuck. She finally spotted him, several pews in front of her, sitting with Bart, Lily and Eric. She could only see the back of his head, the whorl of thick, dark hair that brushed the tops of his ears- but it still brought a smile to her face.

And only one row back sat Nate, flanked by his mother and… Jenny Humphrey.

Blair gritted her teeth in annoyance.

She wasn't upset that Nate was there with someone else- actually, that bothered her far less than she'd expected. But this was a high-profile event, and the idea that someone might start whispering that Nate Archibald had dumped Blair Waldorf forJenny Nobody-from-Brooklyn was… completely unacceptable.

Clasping her hands together in her lap, Blair resolved to have the most overtly fabulous evening imaginable. As long as she looked like she was having the time of her life, no one would even dare to think of her some sort of… scorned woman.

There'd be plenty of time to exact her revenge on Jenny later.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Several hours and one extremely boring religious ceremony later, Chuck was sipping his way through his third martini. He leaned against a gilt-trimmed pillar while he surveyed the other occupants of the Plaza's Grand Ballroom, his idle gaze and languid posture belying the fact that he was intently tracking someone.

Someone who happened to look absolutely delectable in her black evening gown, he thought, surreptitiously watching Blair waltz around the ballroom.

Her full-length skirt swirled around her legs in layers of filmy chiffon, occasionally revealing a set of strappy black stilettos gliding over the polished floor. The fitted, v-neck bodice emphasized her tiny waist, elaborate embroidery showcasing a slight but tempting hint of cleavage, the open back displaying a tempting expanse of pale, silky skin. Her hair was swept up into an immaculate chignon, a few carefully chosen tendrils framing the sides of her face- and his eyes kept following the dangling onyx-and-pearl earrings down to the exposed curve of her neck.

But she still hadn't given him a good opening to approach her, he thought with a twinge of annoyance. She'd already danced with Carter two numbers in a row-which irritated him far more than it should have, due to the cut of her gown and the not-quite-proper positioning of his hands.

Although he was somewhat mollified to see her step heel-first onto Carter's foot when his hands wandered too far south.

"Chuck Bass?"

He turned, his eyebrow arching in response to the murmured greeting, to find a familiar-looking blonde woman by his right elbow.

Karen, maybe?… or Kelsey… something similarly pedestrian.

He couldn't remember how he knew her, and he didn't particularly care, so he simply furrowed his brow in an expression of vague recognition.

"Yes?" he returned disinterestedly.

"You don't remember me," she realized, her lips tilting upwards in a disbelieving smile.

Experience had taught him that it was better to neither confirm nor deny in these types of situations, so he just stayed quiet and waited for her to elaborate.

"Kendra Warren," she reminded him, shaking her head with a little laugh. "We met at the Bass Industries charity gala two years ago?"

Warren… right. College-aged daughter of one of his father's business associates.

After the gala, they'd gone to an afterparty at some club, which had turned into an eight-hour coke binge- during which he'd fucked her in a not-very-secluded corner of the VIP lounge.

No wonder he didn't remember her- not only had he been completely blitzed, but that sort of thing had been a fairly routine weekend for him back then.

"Right, Kendra," he said finally. "How's it going?"

He made little attempt to conceal the disinterest in his voice, but she didn't seem fazed.

"Better now," she said with a suggestive smile. "I was afraid this party was going to be… terribly dull."

Chuck smirked a little in acknowledgement.

"So…" she trailed off, running one finger down the lapel of his jacket. "Do you have any plans for after the reception?"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"How about we stop for a drink?" Carter suggested, his mouth a bit too close to her ear, and Blair nodded stiffly.

She was going to need more than a few drinks to get her through the evening, she thought. Between keeping Carter at a safe distance, ignoring Nate, chaperoning Serena- who thankfully appeared to be behaving herself tonight- and plotting to find a way to dance with Chuck, casually, so as to avoid suspicion… pretending to have a fabulous time was becoming quite taxing.

They walked off the dance floor together, Blair's perfect society smile ossifying when she felt Carter's hand linger on the small of her back for a moment before he headed off to the bar.

Apparently almost impaling him on her heel had been too subtle, she thought grumpily.

As she waited for him to return with her drink, she scanned over the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of Chuck across the sea of people turning and swaying across the dance floor.

When she finally did, however, she felt her heart drop.

He wasn't alone.

There was a voluptuous blonde standing far too close to him.

Smiling up at him suggestively, intimately. Running one hand down his chest.

And he was _letting_ her.

She felt Carter return to her side, drink in hand, and she quickly schooled her expression into one of indifference.

"Do you know that girl?" she asked, her tone conveying the intended mix of boredom and disinterest. "She looks… familiar."

"Who?" Carter followed her gaze. "Oh, Kendra Warren. Her mother's in the Colony Club."

Blair arched in eyebrow in disbelief, casting a disdainful glance over the plunging halter neckline and thigh-high slit of her gown.

Clearly her mother hadn't managed to teach her any class.

"She looks… delightful," she murmured, the haughty disdain in her voice unmistakable.

She couldn't see Chuck's face from this angle, but she could see that he hadn't moved. He hadn't thrown the girl's hands off him in disgust and told her to take her tramp ass home. And apparently he hadn't told her that he was taken, thank you very much, and wouldn't be interested in her tawdry… charms, even if he weren't.

"Yeah, Kendra's pretty much a sure thing," Carter commented with a hint of mirth. "Surprised he'd go back for seconds though. Seems a little early in the evening for that."

"Seconds?" Blair echoed, feeling the blood drain from her face.

Carter glanced over at her.

"Yeah, a year or two ago." He shrugged. "I had a front-row view, they weren't very discreet about it."

Blair swallowed back the tears clogging her throat, avoiding Carter's curious gaze.

She'd been an idiot to think Chuck would change just for her, she thought despairingly. It didn't even matter that she was in the same room, or that they'd planned to spend the night together- he was just drawn to shameless bimbos like a moth to a flame.

Thank God she hadn't brought him as her actual date. She would've ended up completely humiliated by the end of the evening.

"Blair?" She looked up and realized that Carter was studying her with narrowed eyes.

Giving him a tight-lipped smile, she downed her martini in two quick gulps and replaced it on the bar with an audible _clink_.

"Let's go dance," she said, her tone brokering no disagreement.

If this was how Chuck wanted to play it, she was more than game.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"I'm afraid I'm… otherwise engaged this evening," Chuck responded, fully aware that he didn't sound the least bit regretful.

"That's a shame," she purred in response.

Her fingernails traced against the smooth satin of his lapel, her face tilted up towards his, lips curved in that same wicked little smile.

"Mmm," he replied noncommittally.

He was surprised, actually, that he didn't feel the least bit tempted. In fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a strong desire to sleep with someone other than Blair. Even at the White Party, he'd just grabbed the easiest-looking woman in the vicinity so he could get laid with a minimum of effort.

And now, with this... Kelsey? seemingly two seconds away from mounting him, all he felt was an overwhelming urge to push her away. Her hands, her smile, her grating little laugh- everything about her just felt all wrong.

Clearly this whole monogamy business had done quite a number on him, he thought with an ironic quirk of his lips.

"Well, I'm having a party at my suite tomorrow night," she suggested, her eyebrows raising in anticipation. "Maybe we can take a rain check."

Glancing down at her hands still playing with the front of his jacket, he realized that Kelsey didn't seem to be taking the hint. He briefly considered telling her he was seeing someone- but that would lead to follow-up questions that he wasn't allowed to answer yet. He'd just have to let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't interested in a repeat performance.

He took a step backwards, which had the intended consequence of her hand sliding off his jacket, and opened his mouth to deliver a polite, but firm, dismissal.

When his gaze suddenly caught on the dance floor, where Blair and Carter were dancing far closer than they'd been before.

His fingers, trailing across the bare skin at the small of her back. Her fingers, resting on his shoulder and toying playfully with the collar of his shirt. Her face, tilted up to give him a coquettish little smile, all pouty lips and fluttering lashes.

He stared in disbelief, waiting for Blair to unsheathe her claws with a sternly-worded reprimand, or another "accidental" dance misstep.

But instead, he watched as she giggled at something Carter said, gazed up at him seductively through her lashes, and then leaned up to whisper into his ear.

Leaving their bodies pressed closely together, swaying slowly back and forth.

Their clasped hands shifting until their fingers were intertwined.

The surge of revulsion, of almost violent anger, that coursed through his body was so intense, it was all he could do to keep himself from stalking over and knocking Carter to the floor.

_Don't you trust me?_

The words echoed mockingly in his ears.

He _had_ trusted her, against his better judgment. And he'd been an idiot to do so.

It was Cotillion all over again.

But he wasn't running away this time, he decided grimly. If their relationship didn't mean anything to her, he would damn well show her he felt the same way.

Turning back to his companion, he regarded her with slanted eyes and the hint of a smirk.

"You look like you could use a drink," he offered.

The blonde's eyes lit up.

Too easy, he thought disparagingly, barely suppressing an eyeroll.

"Lead the way," she replied, her mouth curving in a triumphant grin.

He slipped an arm around her, his thumb stroking lazily along the bare skin of her back as he led her towards the bar.

His impassive expression giving no hint of the anger roiling beneath the surface.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Two dances later, Blair felt like her face was going to crack from all the fake smiling she was doing.

Not to mention that being all touchy-feely with Carter was starting to make her a little nauseous.

"How about another drink?" she suggested, sliding her hand teasingly down his forearm.

"Sure."

He draped an arm around her back, his fingers squeezing into her waist. She just gave him a coy smile, pretending that she welcomed the overly familiar gesture- and ignoring the look of concern and confusion she could feel Serena shooting her way.

Her smile froze, however, the second her eyes landed on Chuck.

He was propped against the end of the bar on one elbow, engaging in what appeared to be a very intimate conversation with the same trampy blonde. She was seated on a stool next to him, swirling a tacky pink martini between her fingers, and angling her torso so that her well-exposed cleavage was directly in his line of sight.

And based on his expression, he was definitely enjoying the view.

Blair watched in dismay as he leaned in, murmuring something against the woman's ear with a naughty little smile. She laughed in response, rewarding him with a similarly wicked grin, her hand reaching up to touch the side of his neck.

Her fingers lingering there. Stroking him.

While he gazed back down at her, clearly undressing her with his eyes.

Blair had to swallow back the bile rising in her throat; for a moment, she thought that she was going to be sick all over the floor of the Plaza ballroom.

She knew she couldn't bear to stay here a minute longer.

"Carter," she murmured, turning into his body and trailing her fingers down the front of his chest. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Desperate to convince him, she decided to up the ante, giving him her most alluring look and tracing the tip of her tongue along her upper lip.

She was unprepared, however, for what came next.

Before she realized what was happening, or that Carter had mistaken her gesture as an invitation, she felt his mouth pressed against her own. For a moment she simply stood there, frozen in shock, as lips that were too soft, too thin, too… wet, moved against her own.

When she finally regained the presence of mind to pull away, the first thing she saw was Chuck's face.

He was staring directly at her, his nostrils flaring with rage.

Looking angrier than she'd ever seen him in her entire life.

Before she had time to even react, he'd turned on his heel, shaking off his companion's roving hands and stalking towards the exit.

Whereupon Carter, having no clue what he'd just done, promptly leaned in for another kiss.

The resounding _slap_ that followed echoed across the enormous ballroom.

He jerked back from the force of it, staring at Blair with stunned eyes as she wrenched herself out of his grasp.

Heads swiveled to stare, furious whispers increasing in volume as Blair ran towards the door with the flowing skirt of her gown bustled up in one hand. When she finally reached the outer corridor, safe from the throng of curious onlookers, she released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

Then she saw a dark-haired, tuxedo-clad figure disappear around the corner.

She wasn't even thinking, just acting purely on instinct- buoyed by anger and indignation and embarrassment- when she chased after him.

"Chuck," she called out in a hushed whisper.

He didn't even turn around- just continued walking at a quick clip down the back corridor, heading towards the hotel's rear exit.

"Chuck," she repeated in a louder tone.

She quickened her pace to a near jog to catch up to him.

"_Chuck_," she snapped, grabbing him by the arm to force him to stop, and he finally spun around to face her.

She took a halting step backwards when she saw the fury radiating from his eyes.

"_What. The fuck. Was that?_" he hissed at her.

Momentarily speechless at the anger she could feel rolling off him in waves, she took a second to regain her own outrage.

"I could say the same to you," she shot back indignantly.

"Me?" he scoffed. "I'm not the one who was sucking face with Carter _fucking_ Baizen."

"No, you were just getting felt up by some… desperate tramp," she retorted with a visible shiver of revulsion.

Chuck recoiled in surprise, his eyes narrowing at her.

"Don't try to turn this around on me, Blair," he said sharply. "I didn't lay a finger on her until I saw you and Carter pawing each other all over the dance floor."

"That is _bullshit_," she spat back. "The only reason I was even dancing with him was because she was all over you, and you weren't doing a thing to stop her."

He opened his mouth to reply when the sound of footsteps made both of their heads jerk around.

A white-tuxedoed waiter gave an uncomfortable cough, averting his eyes and wiping his hands nervously on his pants. Chuck and Blair stared each other down in silence as he quickly trotted past them.

"Anyone could see us out here," she pointed out in a loud, angry whisper.

"Oh yes, God forbid you do anything to publicly embarrass yourself," he replied mockingly.

Blair's only response was a fierce glare.

Quickly scanning the hallway, she spotted a unisex bathroom several doors down. She grabbed Chuck by the arm- paying no attention to his disgruntled expression- dragged him into the small room, and locked the door behind them.

Whipping around to face him, she saw that his eyes were still blazing, his anger not having abated in the slightest.

So she decided to go on the offensive.

"What's the matter, Chuck, couldn't you find anyone to hit on at this wedding you _hadn't_ already slept with?" she snapped.

He blinked in surprise.

"How did you-"

"Carter told me," she replied in a tight voice. "Although I should've guessed, right? You've probably banged half the women in that room."

He glared at her in disbelief.

"I'm not going to apologize for my past, Blair," he replied in a low voice, his fists still clenched with muted fury. "This is about tonight. This is about the fact that I just watched you kiss another guy _right in front of me_."

"I did _not_," she countered defensively. "_He_ kissed _me_. And I didn't want him to, at _all_."

"Well, I wonder how he could've gotten the wrong impression," Chuck mused, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Maybe because you were throwing yourself at him like… what was that phrase you used?" He pursed his lips in feigned contemplation. "Oh right- a desperate tramp?"

She inhaled sharply, staring daggers at him.

"I was only doing…_ that _because I saw that brazen hussy crawling all over you," she retorted, lifting her chin haughtily. "Did you even think of just telling her 'no'? Or 'down,' or 'heel?'"

"I was trying to do exactly that, before I saw you dry-humping your _escort _all over the dance floor," he shot back, taking a step towards her.

Realizing that they'd reached an impasse, she simply glared at him, her body quivering with indignation.

And he glared right back at her.

His dark eyes smoldering with anger, frustration… and a fierce possessiveness that made her pulse race.

She had only a moment to contemplate it before his lips captured hers in a forceful, aggressive kiss, stifling her gasp of surprise.

His hot mouth opened against hers, his hand grasping her neck as he kissed her with increasing urgency, his body maneuvering her backwards and pinning her against the bathroom wall. His hands roamed across her curves with barely-restrained aggression; needing, seeking, demanding capitulation, caressing her with a purposeful roughness that set her entire body ablaze.

They were pressed so closely together that she could feel his heart pounding against her chest, and the echoing thump of her own in tandem.

Her last coherent thought was that they actually had a hotel room upstairs.

Then she felt him yank the fabric of her skirt upwards, his fingers grip her thighs and press them apart, his hips thrust forcefully, insistently against hers- and coherent thought quickly evaporated.

Her whole body felt hot, unbearably so, the cool tile against her bare back doing nothing to quench the fire shooting through her veins, the heat pooling between her thighs, the desperate desire to have him inside her, right here and now.

Chuck's mouth burned a path down her neck, kissing, sucking, biting, leaving marks; she was certain she'd be furious about them later, but right now they only fueled her arousal, her craving to feel him claim her entirely, possess her, fuck her until the only thing she could see or taste or smell was him.

She felt the straps of her gown being wrenched down her shoulders, left to dangle uselessly at her sides as Chuck turned his attention to her breasts- licking and sucking each taut pink nipple in turn, sucking so hard that she whimpered in a mixture of pleasure and agony, and she clenched her fingers into his hair so roughly that he hissed in pain, and yanked him upwards to fuse their mouths together once again.

He retaliated by biting down on her lower lip, but it only spurred her on, her tongue thrusting aggressively into his mouth, parrying with his, fighting for dominance. Her hardened nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt until she couldn't bear it any longer, yanking apart his bowtie and ripping at buttons until she reached bare flesh, digging her fingernails into his skin and delighting in the low growl that rumbled through his chest.

She reached down and pulled at his zipper impatiently, making a throaty sound of satisfaction as she freed his cock. She took it, hot and throbbing, into her hand, and felt it grow harder with every stroke. Chuck's breath was coming out in harsh pants against her neck, his teeth scraping across the delicate flesh, his hands fondling and squeezing her breasts, tweaking her nipples until a dart of pleasure shot directly to her core, making her gasp aloud.

With swift, purposeful movements, he pulled her away from the wall and hoisted her up onto the sink, leaving his hands free to slip on a condom, and her hands free to roam over his bare chest, his shoulders, his neck. She touched him with almost greedy hunger, reminding herself that he was hers- _all hers_- and he'd have the scratches and welts and bite marks to prove it.

For one brief moment, their eyes met- and the wild, unrestrained want in his gaze almost scared her with its intensity.

An answering shiver of lust rippled down her spine.

And then he was inside her, plunging to the hilt with one deep thrust; then again, and again, his fingers gripping her hips so hard she was sure they would leave bruises, his mouth on her neck, sucking her skin between his teeth, branding her as his.

Her lips curved upwards in wicked satisfaction at the thought.

As his pace quickened, it was all she could do to keep her hands on his shoulders, her thighs wrapped around his waist. She began to feel that unmistakable tightening in her center- that hot, needy ache that made her dig her nails into his skin, her moans turning into eager whimpers and finally hoarse, demanding cries.

Her entire body arched against him, taut and shuddering as a blinding orgasm ripped through her. His fingers digging into her flesh and his teeth biting her neck only intensified her pleasure, sharpening the sensation until it was nearly unbearable, until she thought the sweet, throbbing ecstasy might shatter her into pieces.

She was still trembling with aftershocks when she felt him pull out of her. A soft whimper of disappointment fell from her lips as he set her back onto her feet.

"Turn around," he commanded, his low, husky voice thick with lust.

She complied on unsteady legs, shivering as she felt his hands slide up her thighs to her ass, to her hips, to the small of her back, to the nape of her neck where he pressed down, urging her to bend forward. Her hands gripped the back of the sink as she watched his reflection behind her in the mirror; his darkened eyes trailing slowly, hungrily over her exposed curves.

Then her breath expelled in a rush as he thrust into her once again.

God, this man would be the death of her, she thought, rocking her hips back against him, already eager and ready for more.

But what a beautiful death it would be.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"I'm… really sorry about that, Carter," Serena murmured as they made their way down the hallway, taking another sympathetic glance at the red handprint across his cheek.

She was pretty sure she could see the outline of Blair's actual fingers.

"Don't be, it's not your fault." Carter gave her a wry smile.

"Let's just find something to wrap these in," she went on, the glass of ice cubes she'd grabbed from the bar jangling in one hand. "Maybe they'll have a Ziploc in the kitchen."

"Well, I couldn't have asked for a lovelier nurse," he said charmingly.

Serena felt an odd little flip-flop in her stomach.

"You know, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now," Carter commented in a thoughtful tone. "Which is to never get between Nate Archibald and Blair Waldorf. Apparently it always ends with me getting hit in the face."

Serena blinked at him in puzzlement.

"Remember Cotillon?" he asked, and mimed a punching motion towards his jaw.

"Oh!" Serena said, remembering how this situation appeared from Carter's point of view. "Right."

She knew better, of course. She'd spent the entire evening watching Chuck and Blair's game of jealousy roulette with increasing trepidation, dreading the moment when a live round finally blew up in everyone's faces.

Thankfully Carter had no idea what kind of clusterfuck he'd inadvertently stumbled into, even though he'd ended up as collateral damage.

"Right, Nate's… so jealous when it comes to Blair," she said distractedly, averting her gaze. "Yeah, definitely."

Carter came to a sudden halt in the middle of the corridor, a furrow appearing between his brows as he studied her expression. Serena tried to look innocent and guileless as she stared back at him, but somehow she just knew that the truth was written all over her face.

"Holy shit, she's got something going on with Bass," Carter realized, and let out a disbelieving little laugh.

"Shh!" Serena shushed him, looking around frantically to make sure there was no one within earshot.

Carter just shook his head, still chuckling.

"I should've known," he mused. "He's been trying to murder me with his eyes all night long. And then she asked me about that girl who was hanging all over him…"

Serena felt a swell of panic inside of her. She knew that Blair would murder her, both literally and figuratively, if news of her super-secret affair got out and her best friend was somehow responsible.

"How the fuck did Bass manage that?" Carter pondered aloud. "Wait, does Nate…" He looked at Serena, his eyes lighting up with wicked amusement. "Does Nate _not know_?"

"No, nobody knows," she insisted in a hushed tone. "It's a total secret. Please, Carter, promise me you won't say anything to _anyone_."

Carter took a moment to consider her plea.

"_Please_," she repeated.

"Okay, okay, fine," he said, holding up his hands. "On one condition."

Serena just stared at him.

"Let me take you out sometime," Carter said in a low, velvety voice.

She felt blood rush into her cheeks. "I… I'm not sure if-" she started to say, but Carter was already grinning.

"I'll take the fact that you just turned red as a tomato as a yes," he interrupted her. "How about drinks on Thursday? I have a feeling I'll have a lot more fun with you than I did with Waldorf tonight."

Serena let out an exasperated breath, but she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"Deal," she finally agreed. "But if only if you solemnly swear to keep… what we just talked about a secret."

"I do," he promised, and looked at her with dancing eyes.

And then they both heard a muffled noise, and turned their heads towards it.

A moan, faint but distinct, echoing from behind the door several yards down the corridor.

"_Oh Chuck…_"

Serena's eyes widened in horror.

Carter's eyes widened in glee.

"_Oh God… yes… YES…_"

"Uh, maybe we better make it Tuesday," he said with a grin, taking a traumatized-looking Serena by the elbow and steering her back towards the ballroom. "Because at this rate, I'm pretty sure they're gonna blow this secret on their own."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Hmm, seems like their relationship is quickly becoming the worst-kept secret on the UES, no? Wonder how that's going to turn out… For the record, I never intended for this story to become a smutfest, but I'm finding it difficult to write Chuck and Blair in a relationship without constantly wanting to bone each other, haha. Not sure why the GGWriters failed so spectacularly hard at that in S3…

Anyway, I don't usually ask for reviews (That's a lie, you say! You ask for them all the time!). Okay fine, but this was like 10,000 words and I think TUF's a little jealous that my other story's getting so much more attention, so… maybe show it some love?

(Right, and I do have a S5 story in-progress for anyone interested. I'm thinking I'll keep my angry show-related rants to that and leave this as the happy S2 oasis it's supposed to be. Remember S2, writers? That was that awesome season that you keep failing miserably at imitating with this one? Oops, sorry. Snarking is like breathing for me, I really can't help it.)

Thanks to Terrabeth for her splendid betaing, as always, and thanks to my reviewers, especially those who've been prodding me to update this: _Eternally Romantic, bfan, maryl, Infinitywr, Rf, dreamgurl, livelybass, Adriana, Aliennut, Krazy4Spike, 24hrscout, KelGGBel, Stella296, CBfanhere, Questacious, aliceeeebeth, katharienne, ellibells, notoutforawalk, Bellemme, Rossiee, Nicole208, kousi, fanny, Olivia, kim, flipped, fiona249, 13maggi13, CBBW3words8letters, Arazadia, Iz, sophie, annablake, Incorrigible dreamer, fswickar, freaktonight, louboutinlove, Clair Carlyle, Shaz, svenjen, 2xlivegonzo, and natyroganlover._


	17. Just Like Heaven

.

**Chapter 17**

_Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick__  
><em>_The one that makes me scream, she said__  
><em>_The one that makes me laugh, she said__  
><em>_And threw her arms around my neck_

__Show me how you do it__  
><em>_And I promise you, I promise that__  
><em>_I'll run away with you__  
><em>_I'll run away with you__

_-The Cure_

Dan shifted nervously from foot to foot, watching the floor numbers tick upwards as the elevator carried him up to the Van der Bass penthouse. He checked over his gifts one last time- the bouquet of flowers was still securely ensconced in its paper wrapping, the scroll of typewritten pages still neatly tied with a bow.

He cast a critical eye over the brightly-colored blooms. He'd had no idea which type of flowers to buy, since he couldn't remember Serena ever mentioning a favorite, and he could barely tell the different varieties apart anyway. So he'd just gotten some sort of… variety pack. He figured at least one of them had to be the right kind.

And while the last draft of his short story didn't _quite_ satisfy him- one of the unfortunate side effects of being a perfectionist- he was still proud of what he'd accomplished so far. It displayed all the elements of his trademark style: the satiric bite of Flannery O'Connor, the narrative economy of Tobias Wolfe, and the poetic justice of Alice Munro.

But at its heart, it was a love story. The story of his relationship with Serena.

Of course, he'd taken some creative liberties. After several weeks of obsessive self-reflection, he'd basically rewritten the outcome of their relationship to correct all of his boneheaded mistakes, crafting a finely-honed apology through the thoughts and actions of his fictional self.

Dan figured this way, not only would Serena get to hear his apology in person, but she'd be able to reread it as many times as she wanted.

He took a moment to imagine her doing exactly that- her face lighting up with a sweet, tentative smile, her eyes growing dewy with affection and longing- and he felt his heart swell with anticipation.

Finally the elevator doors slid open, and he stepped out into the foyer.

"Hello?" he called out, hoping that Serena would be the one to greet him. Or Eric. Or Lily, at the very worst. He'd take her vague condescension over Bart Bass's bone-chilling stare any day.

He took a moment to mentally rehearse his opening line.

_Hey, Serena… I, uh… I wanted to… tell you…_

Good lord, he thought with a self-deprecating wince. He didn't even sound smooth in his own head. But it was too late to turn back now. He just had to go for it and hope that she still found his awkwardness endearing.

If she was even here, he realized, frowning at the lack of response.

"Hello?" Dan repeated, a little more loudly than before.

Maybe she was napping, he thought to himself. She'd always had a penchant for dozing off while studying, and she used to love when he woke her up with a kiss. She'd gaze up at him with a sleepy little half-smile, then slide her hand around the back of his neck… and before long, homework was the last thing on either of their minds.

Feeling the goofy smile spreading across his own face, he turned and headed in the direction of Serena's room. He lingered in front of the door for just a moment, wiping his sweaty palms down the front of his trousers- then he took a deep breath, turned the knob, and pressed the door open.

But nothing could've prepared him for the sight that greeted him.

At first, all he could see was a flurry of limbs. Legs. Arms. Hands. And then his brain began to assemble all of the parts into a whole.

Into a naked woman. On top of a naked man.

Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her bare back as she rocked herself up and down, her buttocks bouncing against the thighs of her partner. His large hands encircled her waist, guiding her rhythm to match his thrusts.

Then the woman threw back her head and emitted a low, drawn-out, throaty moan- the likes of which Dan had never heard before.

Holy shit, he thought. It was _Blair Waldorf_. And underneath her, was…

"_Chuuuck_," she breathed.

Dan watched, transfixed, as the pair of masculine hands slid down Blair's hips and grabbed her haunches firmly.

"Fuck, I love watching you ride me," he heard Chuck declare in evident pleasure and awe.

"Is that so?" Blair returned breathlessly, leaning forward to set her hands on his chest.

She thrust her hips down several times in rapid succession, and Chuck groaned and gripped her ass even more tightly.

"But if you keep that up," he murmured in a husky voice, "this isn't going to last much longer."

Leaning up towards her, he pulled her down into a passionate kiss, temporarily slowing her movements. Her fingers snaked through his hair as she appreciatively "mmm"ed into his mouth.

And at that moment, Dan finally realized that he needed to get the hell out of there, like, yesterday. Or at least before Chuck and Blair shifted positions and caught sight of him standing in the doorway like a gaping idiot.

He took several quick, halting steps backwards- but in his haste, one foot tripped over the other, causing him to stumble against the heavy dresser. The bouquet of flowers flew into the corner, and the sheaf of pages slipped from his fingers and rolled out of sight.

Blair's head swiveled towards the sound, her startled gaze colliding with his panicked one.

"Oh my God," she gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

Yanking at the covers to shield herself, she practically dove off of Chuck and onto the mattress beside him.

Dan decided to abandon any pretense of composure, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment as he scanned the floor for his fallen items.

"What the _fuck_, Humphrey?" Blair cried, clutching the duvet against her chest.

"I… I'm sorry… I thought this was Serena's room…" Dan stammered. He quickly bent down and picked the flowers, and then looked around helplessly for his missing story.

"Serena's not home," Blair said sharply. "And don't they teach you how to knock in Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, sorry, should've knocked. That was, uh… my bad," Dan rambled awkwardly.

He looked up from his search to see Blair glaring at him with barely-controlled outrage.

Chuck, on the other hand, just leaned back on his elbows and regarded Dan with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. A corner of the duvet had been thrown haphazardly over his lap, but it didn't cover nearly enough as far as Dan was concerned.

"Well, if I'd known we were putting on a show, I would've spiced things up a bit more," Chuck commented in a low drawl.

Mortified, Dan darted his eyes away- partly to avoid Blair's accusatory gaze, and partly to avoid… any part of Chuck.

Finally locating the scroll of papers, which had rolled underneath the dresser, he knelt down quickly to retrieve it. He rose to his feet and then paused awkwardly, realizing that there was no graceful way to conclude this encounter.

"Are you… waiting for us to continue?" Chuck asked with an arched eyebrow.

Blair smacked him on the shoulder.

"_Ow_," he protested, looking at her reproachfully.

"Uh, no… definitely not. I'll just be… going…" Dan managed to get out.

"You'd better, Humphrey," Chuck remarked, eyeing his bedmate. "Looks like things are starting to get kinky."

Blair shot him an aggravated glare.

Without another word, Dan turned and made a hasty retreat, closing the door securely behind him.

Chuck cast a sidelong look at Blair, who was still staring at the door, clutching the sheet to her chest with white-knuckled fingers.

"Now… where were we?" he murmured, running the back of his index finger across her collarbone and then leaning in to repeat the motion with his tongue.

"Are you serious?" she asked disbelievingly, jerking her body away from him.

Chuck's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"How could you possibly still be in the mood after… _that_?" she clarified, gesturing towards the door.

"Because… you're still naked in bed with me?" he replied, a hint of a smirk tilting the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry, maybe I'm not understanding the question…"

"Dan Humphrey just saw me _naked_. Having _sex_," she said in a disgusted voice. "I feel like I need to be disinfected."

"If it helps," Chuck said wryly, "it was probably the single greatest moment of his entire life."

Blair's nose crinkled in distaste.

"I mean, who knows how long he was standing there watching before we noticed him," Chuck added with a grin, his amusement only increasing as Blair cringed in horror.

"Oh my God…" she realized suddenly. "What if he tells someone?"

Chuck snorted.

"Who is he going to tell? It's not like he has any friends…"

"_No one_, that's who," Blair snapped, grabbing a silk robe off the bedside chaise. "I'm going to make sure of it."

"Blair," he wheedled, as he watched her hurriedly enrobe herself and stalk towards the door. "Come back to bed…"

"In a minute," she replied, unperturbed. "I have a Humphrey to squash."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Dan berated himself all the way down the hallway. Why had he been so sure that was Serena's room? He'd only been here once before.

And now, as a result of his own bumbling idiocy, he was privy to secrets he had never wanted to know- and certainly never wanted to _see_. He could only pray that the sight wasn't permanently singed onto his retinas.

He'd almost reached the elevator when he heard the rapid padding of bare feet on the floor behind him.

"_Humphrey_." The hissed whisper caused him to stop in his tracks.

He turned around with a wince, steeling himself in case Blair began pummeling him with her tiny fists.

But instead, she just stood there glowering, her arms folded indignantly across her chest. Thankfully, she'd put on a silk robe, which was obviously Chuck's - it was so oversized that it nearly came down to her toes. But Dan still found that he couldn't look at Blair without remembering what she looked like… under the robe.

_Which was actually rather spectacular_, his brain helpfully reminded him.

So yeah, he definitely couldn't look at her body. And he couldn't look her in the eye either, so he just settled on staring at the wall over her shoulder.

"About… what you just saw," Blair began in a haughty tone. "I'm going to need you to forget you ever saw it."

"Believe me, I would like nothing more," he assured her.

"I'm serious, Humphrey," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "If you dare breathe a word of this to anyone-"

"Who would I tell, Blair?" he cut in, finally meeting her gaze.

"Your lack of available confidants isn't the point," she shot back. "I don't want you so much as whispering it into the ear of your Cabbage Patch doll while you're spooning him at night."

Dan sighed, his discomfort waning in the face of growing annoyance.

"And if you even _think_ of mentioning this to your social-climbing witch of a sister," she went on, her jaw tightening in aggravation, "I swear to God, I will _end you_."

Her expression was so fierce that he half-expected her to make a slashing motion across her neck with her finger.

But suddenly Blair's dogged persistence, and that hint of fear he could sense behind her bitchy exterior, made total sense.

Because Jenny had already been blackmailing her over a past fling with Chuck- who knew what she would do with proof of a _current_ one? Given his sister's newfound penchant for scheming and manipulation, he wouldn't put much past her at this point.

And while he and Blair Waldorf were hardly BFFs, her questionable taste in sexual partners wasn't anyone's business but her own.

"I promise I won't say a word," he assured her. "To anyone."

He could've sworn he saw a brief flash of approval in Blair's eyes.

But it disappeared a moment later when they once again narrowed suspiciously.

"Because if you do-" she began.

"You'll… end me, right," he repeated.

She nodded decisively.

The two of them stood there for a moment, awkwardly avoiding each other's eyes.

"So, uh… do you know where Serena is?" he asked finally, figuring he should at least try to make some progress towards his original goal.

"I'm sorry, do I look like Serena's social secretary?" she replied disdainfully.

He sighed.

"No, but-"

"Honestly, Humphrey, it's a good thing that you missed her." Blair looked down, regarding his bedraggled bouquet with evident distaste. "I mean- that arrangement has _carnations_ in it."

Judging from the tone of her voice, he may as well have been carrying dogshit on a stick.

Not that he had any clue why. They just looked like regular flowers to him.

"What's wrong with-" he began.

"They're cheap, tacky, filler flowers," she cut him off.

Dan looked down at the carnations, still unable to see anything objectionable about them.

Blair blew out an exasperated sigh. "Serena likes lilies," she continued in a noticeably softer tone. "Stargazer lilies."

"Stargazer lilies," Dan repeated, trying to imprint the unfamiliar term onto his memory.

"And maybe try to find a shirt with less… plaid in it," she added, casting a scornful look over his outfit.

Dan rolled his eyes.

"And by less, I mean none," she clarified.

"Yeah… I got that," he replied in a droll tone.

"Just trying to be helpful," she said, tilting her head to the side with a faux-sweet smile.

There was another uncomfortable silence while they regarded each other, as if trying to assess their new, slightly less antagonistic dynamic.

Dan waited expectantly, figuring she'd at least show some appreciation for him keeping her secret. It'd be a nice change of pace, he thought, Blair actually being nice to him.

He wondered what the next words out of her mouth would be. Maybe, "well, Humphrey, I don't know how else to say this, but… you're actually not all that bad." Or maybe, "you know, I never understood what Serena saw in you… until now."

Or maybe just a simple, heartfelt "thank you."

Looking at her, he raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"Well, I'm sure you can show yourself out," Blair said dismissively. "Try not to walk in on anyone else having sex on your way to the elevator."

And with that, she turned on her heel and headed back down the hallway without a backwards glance.

Dan stared after her for a moment. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, turned and made his way towards the elevator.

Once he was inside, he let his head fall back against the wall, closed his eyes, and ground his knuckles against his eyelids- but his attempt to delete the image of naked Chuck Bass from his brain proved utterly futile.

Maybe he should just save himself some time and call a therapist right now, he thought to himself.

Because he would almost certainly be having nightmare_s_ about this for months.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Glancing down to see that the empty martini glass in front of her had been unobtrusively replaced with a full one, Serena shot a skeptical look at her companion.

"If I didn't know better, Carter, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk," she commented, eying him over the rim of her glass as she took a small sip.

"That is _exactly_ what I'm trying to do," he responded with a smirk. "Girls are much nicer to me when they're drunk."

"I_'_m always nice to you," she replied innocently, her lips curling into an answering smile.

Carter's gaze lingered on her with blatant admiration, and she averted her eyes when she felt her cheeks flush in response.

"True," he conceded. "Too nice to turn me down when I ask you out again?"

Serena hesitated, but Carter leaned forward onto his elbows and continued to stare at her until she finally looked back at him.

"You didn't really ask me the first time," she pointed out with a hint of mirth.

"I think I actually made you a very generous deal," he countered. "My silence plus a night out on the town? Sounds like a win-win."

Serena shook her head and tried- unsuccessfully- to fight off a grin. She found Carter's smug self-assurance annoying, frustrating, and… oddly enough, kind of a turn-on. It was flattering, she supposed, that he was so set on winning her over.

Not that she would ever admit that to him, of course. The last thing Carter Baizen needed was another reason to be cocky.

But she couldn't help wondering why he'd chosen to chase after_ her_. Carter hit on pretty much every female in his vicinity- it was practically a reflex for him- but he also had a notoriously short attention span. And she'd done nothing in particular to entice him.

"Why me?" she asked him, deciding to be frank.

He frowned in puzzlement.

"Why do you want to go out with me so badly?" she clarified, studying him curiously.

Carter was quiet for a long moment.

"Guess I just enjoy your company, van der Woodsen," he said at last, giving her a lopsided grin.

She couldn't help a little smile in return- but he'd averted his eyes almost immediately, returning them to the martini he was swirling between his thumb and index finger.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "Next Friday? Dinner at Per Se?"

"Same conditions?" she shot back.

"No conditions." He shook his head. "Just a delicious meal with an… extraordinarily handsome companion."

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement.

And maybe it was the slight buzz of intoxication, courtesy of three- possibly four?- martinis, or maybe it was the fact that she was actually having a lot of fun with him.

Or maybe it was that intent way he was looking at her while he awaited her answer, belying the confident smirk still fixed in place.

"I could do Friday," she conceded finally, her lashes fluttering downwards as she fought to suppress a smile.

"I'll send a car," he said, a hint of triumph audible in his voice.

He slid his hand over the top of hers and twined their fingers together, and she felt a tingle run across her skin at the intimate gesture.

"Shall we?" He tilted his head towards the dance floor, raising his eyebrows at her as if in challenge.

And without hesitation, she slid off her stool and followed him.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

It was late the next evening when Serena arrived at the Waldorf penthouse. She strode down the hallway at a pace quick enough to leave her slightly breathless, and, when she finally reached Blair's bedroom door, rapped on it with several sharp knocks.

"Come in!" She heard Blair call out through the heavy oak.

"B, is everything okay? I came as soon as I could…" Serena's concerned voice trailed off as she came face-to-face with her best friend.

Blair sat cross-legged in the middle of her bedroom floor, in the eye of what appeared to be a fashion tornado. Dresses, skirts, and blouses were heaped into piles all around her, interspersed with headbands and rolled-up balls of tights. The bed was covered in coats, which appeared to have been arranged in order by color at some point, but were now buried under a mound of handbags. A leaning stack of French Vogues was precariously perched at the foot of the bed, surrounded by several issues flipped open to modeling spreads or advertisements.

And in the midst of all the chaos was Blair, carefully sorting a small mountain of shoes into two piles.

Tilting her head in an unspoken question, Serena eyed her best friend. She looked a little pale and frazzled, but otherwise fine.

"Uh, B… you said this was an emergency," she said skeptically.

"It _is_," Blair responded in an exasperated tone, waving one peep-toed Louboutin in the air. "I have spent the last _two hours_ trying to find the perfect outfit for tomorrow night, and every single thing in my closet is… completely unacceptable."

She tossed down the shoe in disgust.

"In fact, I was just organizing my shoes into unacceptable and even more unacceptable," she added, glaring at the piles of offending footwear.

Despite her lingering annoyance at having rushed over in response to Blair's "SOS" text, Serena couldn't help a little smile of understanding.

"What's happening tomorrow night?" she asked curiously, taking a seat next to Blair and glancing over some of the magazine spreads she laid out.

"It's our first date," Blair responded, nervously nibbling her lower lip between her teeth.

"You and Chuck are going out in public together?" Serena asked in surprise.

"Oh no." Blair shook her head. "It's more of a… staying in date."

"I feel like you guys have been on lots of… _staying-in_ _dates _already," Serena pointed out with a barely perceptible shudder.

"Well… yes," Blair allowed, a tiny smile quirking the corner of her lips. "But I mean a real date, not just a… sex date."

"So what exactly do you have planned for this date?"

"Dinner and a movie," Blair replied with a little note of pride. "In his suite, of course."

Serena raised her eyebrows, reluctantly impressed. "So... no sex then?"

"Okay, I didn't say _that_," Blair scoffed, as if the mere suggestion were absurd, and Serena giggled in spite of herself.

"What are you guys watching?" she asked.

"Oh, I suggested the new Batman movie," Blair said airily.

"That doesn't really seem like… your kind of movie…" Serena commented in a doubtful tone.

"Well, it's not like we're going to watch Tiffany's and paint our toenails together." Blair rolled her eyes. "It's still Chuck we're talking about here, I can't subject him to some… chick flick. This way he gets to watch something that doesn't threaten his masculinity, and I get to look at Christian Bale for two hours. Win-win."

"Fair enough," Serena conceded with a tilt of her head.

"Anyway, now do you understand why choosing an outfit for this is absolutely… impossible?" Blair blew out a frustrated breath, scanning over the garments piled around her. "How do you dress for a staying-in date? If I dress like we're going to Jean-Georges, I'll feel… ridiculous. But this is Chuck, who knows almost as much about fashion as I do, so I can't just wear something… off-the-rack."

Disdain dripped from her words as she gestured towards one particular pile of discarded clothing.

"Well, maybe just… wear something sexy?" Serena suggested.

"If I do that, we won't even make it through dinner," Blair replied, her tone clearly indicating that she knew this from experience. "Which defeats the whole point of the date. So it has to be… tempting, but not too tempting."

"Hrm," Serena pondered. "Maybe something like… a sweater dress?"

She sifted through the pile of clothing by her feet until she found one- a clingy mid-thigh number in ivory cashmere, with long sleeves and a modest neckline.

"I dunno," Blair said, sounding unsure. "It's kind of… simple…"

"That's why you _accessorize_," Serena went on, spotting a pair of brown suede boots across the room and jumping up excitedly to grab them.

A few minutes later, she'd assembled an entire outfit, complete with patterned tights and layers of chunky necklaces.

Considering the final product with pursed lips, Blair nodded in grudging admiration. It was stylish and sexy, but looked effortless - exactly the reason she'd sought Serena's help.

"It does look more like something you would wear though," she commented. Reaching out, she plucked two of the necklaces away, leaving only one. "There," she said in satisfaction. "Now it looks more like I'm going to an upscale hotel and not an… outer borough consignment shop."

Serena laughed, shaking off the jibe.

"Speaking of which…" Blair wrinkled her nose, just to make her distaste as clear as possible. "You had a visitor last night. Apparently your ex decided to dust off his best flannel shirt and try to woo you back to Brooklyn, with a bouquet of second-rate flowers and something that appeared to have been written on a… typewriter."

"Wait, Dan came here?" Serena asked, confused.

"No," Blair replied in an obvious tone. "He came to your penthouse."

"But why were you at-"

Blair raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

"Oh." Serena winced slightly. "I thought you guys went to Chuck's suite for… that…"

"Well, no one else was home, and it's closer my place." Blair shrugged. "Of course, we hadn't counted on Dan Humphrey barging in…"

Serena's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, he walked in on you guys _having sex_?"

"Yes, apparently knocking isn't a technique you learn when you grow up in a loft apartment with a garage door in the middle of it."

"Oh my God," Serena exclaimed. "Aren't you worried he might tell someone?"

"Oh, no, there's no need for concern," Blair replied in an airy tone, unrolling the tights and examining them for runs. "I explained to him that if he uttered a single word about what he'd seen, he would find himself minus two testicles."

"Assuming that's how many he started with, of course," she added disdainfully.

"Oh my God, poor Dan…" Serena murmured, shaking her head.

"Please." Blair rolled her eyes. "I doubt he suffered any permanent trauma. If anything, he might have learned a thing or two."

Serena slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a snort of laughter.

"Besides, now he gets a do-over on those flowers, which were downright… tragic," Blair added with a little shudder. "I think he might have picked them in his yard."

"He doesn't have a yard, B," Serena replied absently, wondering why Dan's romantic gesture wasn't inspiring the giddy sort of feeling she would've expected.

The one she'd felt last night, when Carter had pulled her flush against his warm, hard body, wrapping her in her arms as they'd swayed together on the dance floor. When his lips had brushed softly against her own…

With a sudden, sharp shake of her head, Serena attempted to clear her mind of these guilty thoughts.

Blair suddenly frowned, cocking her head to the side as she studied her best friend.

"Where were you last night, by the way? I was there until almost midnight and you still weren't home."

"Oh, I just… I had a group project due for Spanish," Serena replied evasively. "We were working on it until pretty late."

Ugh, she thought, internally frowning at how awkward this explanation sounded. Why hadn't she just said she went out to a club without mentioning Carter? That would've been much more believable.

Blair nodded, not looking entirely convinced- but she was quickly distracted by the task at hand.

"So I think this will work," she said, replacing the sweater dress onto its padded hanger and draping it across the foot of her bed. "Now I just have to pick out the rest of the outfit…"

She rose to her feet and pulled open the top drawer of her dresser. "Hmm?" she hummed with a smile, holding up a corset in ivory satin. A matching lace thong dangled from her index finger.

"Umm …" Serena winced and averted her eyes to the handbag selection. "It really creeps me out choosing other people's sex clothes…"

A loud sneeze snapped her attention back upwards.

"Bless you," Serena said kindly, but her brow furrowed as Blair's slight form was wracked by two more violent sneezes.

"Thanks," Blair returned in a strained voice.

"Are you getting sick, B?" she asked in concern.

"No," Blair replied adamantly, sniffling once under the cover of her hand, before returning to her lingerie perusal as if nothing had happened.

"Are you sure?" Serena asked skeptically, suddenly noticing that her friend's nose was tinged with pink and her eyes looked feverishly bright.

"I don't get sick, Serena," Blair insisted. "It's probably just… allergies."

"To what?" Serena asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I dunno, I took a cab back from Chuck's last night, so maybe… vinyl seats, or the smell of stale falafel, or the noxious fumes emitted by those… tacky air fresheners shaped like little trees." Blair cringed at the memory.

"I'm just feeling a touch… under the weather, that's all," she declared. "I'll be fine by tomorrow night."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

But twelve hours later, Blair was most definitely not fine.

Her sniffles had turned into full-blown chest congestion, which was accompanied by a pounding headache and a hoarse, pitiful cough. And the onset of fever left her shivering under a mountain of blankets… when she wasn't flinging them all off again because she was sweating through her pajamas.

Dorota had taken one look at her and called Headmistress Queller, ignoring Blair's feeble pleas about her previously unblemished attendance record. She'd then brought up a tray of toast and tea with honey, a hefty dose of Sudafed, and strict orders to rest.

The sun was low on the horizon when Blair finally dragged herself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.

And she gasped in horror when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Because as miserable as she felt, she actually looked even worse. Her skin was pale and clammy, her hair hung around her face in a tangled mess, and her nose was red and painfully chapped.

She glared at her own reflection, disgusted by her body's lack of fortitude.

Blair Waldorf did not get sick. She did not succumb to _disease_. This was completely unacceptable.

She'd been holding out hope of recovering in time for her date with Chuck that evening, but it would be a cold day in hell before she let anyone see her like this.

Sighing in disappointment, she trudged back to her bedroom and retrieved her phone from the nightstand.

_Have to postpone tonight_, she texted him. _Still not feeling well_.

_Sorry to hear that_, the response came a few minutes later. _Make it up to me later?_

She rolled her eyes at the innuendo.

_We'll see, Bass_, she responded.

Her evening plans- or lack thereof- solidified, she decided to change into her most comfy pajamas, queue up some movies, and settle down for a relaxing night in.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Chuck sauntered into the Palace bar later that evening, scanning over the crowd until his gaze landed on a group of familiar faces.

He inclined his head towards the bartender, who answered with a brisk nod, and then made his way over to join them.

"Hey," he greeted his best friend, his eyes flickering over the others with an expression of disinterest.

Nate turned towards him, a look of surprise on his face.

"Oh, hey man," he replied. "I thought you couldn't make it tonight?"

"My other plans got rescheduled." Chuck shrugged, accepting the glass of Scotch the bartender held across the bar and taking a generous swallow.

"Well, I'm glad. I feel like I've barely seen you lately."

"Have you missed me, Nathaniel?" he asked, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

"Well, it's just not as much fun to smoke up alone," Nate replied, with a wistful sort of grin. "So what were your other plans?"

"My what?" Chuck's brow furrowed in confusion.

"The plans you were supposed to have tonight?" Nate clarified, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, uh…" Caught off guard, Chuck's mind raced to come up with an answer. "Just, you know… the usual."

He accompanied the comment with a suggestive little smirk, doing his best imitation of his typical smarmy, cocksure self.

But Nate looked unconvinced.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that girl you were talking about at Victrola the other night, would it?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

_Shit_, Chuck thought. If his cover story was so thin that _Nate_ could see through it, he must be really off his game. Clearly more vigilance was in order.

"Perhaps…" he allowed, shrugging nonchalantly. "But since that's off the table, I figured I'd… check out the rest of the merchandise."

Adopting an expression of disaffected boredom, he scanned over the bar's female patrons, his eyes narrowing slightly in assessment.

Nothing even remotely appealing, he thought. Strictly bridge and tunnel crowd tonight.

But he fixed his expression into an appreciative leer.

"It's got potential," he said instead, and Nate followed his gaze with an amused nod.

"So Jenny called me yesterday," he commented. "She wants to hang out again."

Chuck raised his eyebrows, taking a long swallow of Scotch and saying nothing.

"I can't tell if she means it as, like… a friend," Nate went on, with a perplexed look. "Because, you know… I have a good time hanging out with her, but I'm not really looking for more than that…"

Usually, Nate's obliviousness would've amused Chuck- but unfortunately, it was in his best interests to make sure Jenny Humphrey stayed happy. And if that meant keeping Nate in the dark as far as her obvious lady-boner for him was concerned… then that's what he would do.

Even though this state of affairs rankled him to no end.

"So hang out with her," Chuck said, shrugging off his irritation. "It doesn't have to be some big deal."

Nate took a moment to contemplate this. A little wrinkle appeared in the middle of his forehead to attest to the force of this mental effort.

"But I don't want to lead her on…" he said, sounding so naïve that Chuck had to suppress an eyeroll.

"You won't, trust me," Chuck replied, draining his glass of Scotch and immediately motioning to the bartender for another. "You just got out of a six-year relationship and you're most likely moving to the other side of the country after you graduate. She's got to know you're not interested in anything serious."

Nate nodded slowly, looking pensive.

"I guess…" he murmured.

Then his face lit up, as if someone had turned on a light bulb behind it.

"Hey, there's Serena ," he pointed out.

Chuck turned to see his step-sister walk into the bar from the lobby, followed by a small group of Blair's minions. With their leader out of commission for the evening, they were apparently in desperate need of someone to follow around and compliment.

Serena didn't even seem to notice their deference- her manner was as sunny and good-natured as always. Her eyes landed on Nate and she gave him with a cheerful little wave.

But her face fell slightly when she spotted Chuck at his side.

She paused at a table with a group of other girls, leaving her coat and handbag with them before making her way over to the bar.

"Hey guys," she greeted them with a smile, which Nate eagerly returned.

"Chuck, I thought you… had other plans tonight?" she asked carefully.

She must not know Blair was sick, he realized. She was assuming he'd bailed on her.

"My other plans canceled on me," he replied calmly.

Serena continued to regard him with the same puzzled frown, and he just stared back at her with a raised eyebrow.

Nate glanced back and forth between the two of them, confused. "Why are you two looking at each other like that?" he asked.

Serena shot a quick look towards the bartender, who was polishing glasses on the other side of the bar.

"Nate, would you mind getting me a drink?" she asked sweetly.

With an amiable grin, he immediately went to do her bidding, and she turned her attention back to Chuck.

"Why aren't you with Blair?" she asked in low voice.

"Because she canceled, like I said," he replied, an edge of annoyance to his voice. "She's sick."

"I _know_," Serena shot back. "Aren't you going to go check on her?"

"Check on her?" he echoed. "She doesn't need me to look after her. She's got Dorota."

Serena just stared at him for a beat.

"You do realize that you're her boyfriend, right? That you're supposed to care that she's sick?"

"Of course I-" Chuck took a quick glance around them, realizing he was speaking louder than was prudent.

"… care," he finished in a hushed voice. "What's your point?"

"My point is that _actin_g like you care is now part of your job description," Serena returned, looking at Chuck with an expression that was half-amused, half-exasperated. "I mean, even _Nate_ would know that."

Something about the way Serena fired off that comment told Chuck that she knew exactly what effect it would have on him.

"So what, am I supposed to show up with a giant teddy bear and a 'get well' balloon bouquet?" He gave a disparaging snort.

Serena shrugged.

"Just bring her some chicken soup," she suggested. "Say you thought it might make her feel better."

"She has a private chef, Serena," he pointed out with an eyeroll. "She doesn't need me to bring her soup."

"That's not the point, Chuck." She shook her head. "It's a gesture, something to show her you care."

"But she doesn't-"

"Here you go." Nate reappeared at Serena's side, holding out a pink-tinted martini.

"Oh, thanks." She gave him a standard Serena smile- wide and dazzling- and he beamed in satisfaction.

Chuck just sighed and shook his head, swirling the tumbler of Scotch in his hand before taking another sip.

"Hey, is Blair out of town?" Nate asked, with a glance over at the group of girls gathered around the nearby table. "I didn't see her at school today."

"Oh no, she's home sick," Serena replied- and then paused, eyeing Chuck with a calculating expression.

"She's feeling… just awful," she went on, her face assuming a look of sad empathy. "She really wanted to come tonight, but she can barely get out of bed… poor thing."

Chuck took another long swallow of his drink.

"She had a fever of 102 a few hours ago…" she added, with a worried, wide-eyed stare back. "I just hope she's okay…"

Chuck rolled his eyes.

"Wow, that sucks." Nate said, frowning in concern. "Maybe I should stop by and check on her?"

Serena shot Chuck a triumphant look.

He glowered at her, grinding his teeth together in frustration.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you to worry about her, Nate," she said in an appreciative tone. "But that's okay, I'll check in on my way home."

Chuck cast one more mutinous glare in Serena's direction before excusing himself to get a drink.

He was _not_ going to let his stepsister manipulate him into acting like some… pathetic, doting idiot. He was going to stay right here at the bar and drink his Scotch.

It wasn't like Blair was expecting him to come over, anyway. She knew he wasn't the kind of guy to nurse her through a bad case of the sniffles.

She definitely wouldn't be disappointed.

Or wish she had a more caring, considerate boyfriend.

He stared down into his tumbler, feeling an unwelcome tightening in his chest.

_Goddammit._

Heaving a deep sigh, he dropped his glass onto the bar with a _thunk_ and turned to walk towards the lobby, ignoring the knowing smile Serena shot him along the way.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Almost an hour later, Chuck stepped into the Waldorf penthouse.

The cheerful ding of the elevator announced his arrival- and instantly summoned Dorota, who planted herself squarely in front of him, obstructing his path. By the looks of her stern countenance, she still hadn't forgotten his drunken disobedience during his last visit.

Chuck attempted to mollify her with a smile, but she only folded her arms across her chest.

"Miss Blair not feeling well," Dorota declared. She eyed him distrustfully, as if expecting him to make a break at any moment to rush upstairs and ravish her poor sick mistress.

"I know, I'm here to… check on her," he replied, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I, uh… brought some soup…" He gestured with the takeout bag in his hand.

He was relieved to see the maid's expression soften, even though his ears were already burning in embarrassment at how unbelievably pussy-whipped he sounded.

Granted, this gesture was no more emasculating than his late-night flower delivery- but he'd been really, really drunk then, and determined to get laid.

And now he was… only slightly drunk. And pretty resigned to not getting laid.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

"Well…" Dorota hedged, after a long pause. "Maybe just… a quick visit."

"Miss Blair need her rest," she added, obvious warning in her tone.

Chuck nodded, trying to make his expression appear as trustworthy as possible- not that he had any real idea what that looked like - and made his way up the stairs towards Blair's bedroom.

He knocked lightly on the door, and, hearing no response, quietly pushed it open.

To his surprise, he found it unoccupied, though it was obviously the bedroom of a very sick teenage girl. The bed covers were rumpled, scattered with empty boxes of tissues and cold medicine. A remote control sat next to the pile of pillows against the headboard, along with some questionable DVDs and a ragged-looking plush rabbit that Chuck had never seen before.

He eyed it warily, wondering when it had last been washed. It looked like a cross between a normal stuffed animal and a pile of dirty rags.

He heard the muffled sound of a toilet flushing, followed by running water and a series of sneezes.

A moment later the bathroom door opened. Blair shuffled out, her slipper-clad feet padding soundlessly against the carpet. She didn't notice him at first, her vision obstructed by the tissue pressed to her nose- but then she lowered her hands and saw him.

Her eyes widened in horror.

"Chuck, what are you doing here?" she demanded in a hoarse voice. She smoothed down her hair and tucked the tangled curls behind her ears, before muffling another sneeze with both hands.

"Visiting you," he replied in an obvious tone. "Although I did expect it to be more of a… happy surprise."

She blinked at him, looking dumbfounded.

"It… is… I mean, I am happy to see you…" she floundered. "I just… I look so terrible…"

Even with his limited knowledge of relationship dynamics, he knew that he was supposed to disagree with her. He was supposed to tell her that she looked just as gorgeous as always. That he couldn't even tell she was sick. That if anything, the fever just gave her a warm, radiant glow.

But she'd know he was lying. Blair was… not looking her best.

"Well, I wouldn't kick you out of bed," he offered smarmily.

Blair narrowed her eyes at him, and he couldn't help grinning.

"Come on, Waldorf, even on your worst day, you look better than most girls on their best," he pointed out. "Nice pajamas, by the way."

Her cheeks flushed pink, almost matching the color of her nose, as she glanced down at her attire. She was wearing a flannel pajama set, white with little red hearts printed on it, which she'd paired with an uncharacteristically tacky pair of fuzzy pink slippers.

He had to admit, minus the runny nose and sneezing and overall pallor of illness, she still looked pretty cute.

"Oh, I brought you something," he said, suddenly remembering the bag in his hand. She looked down at it, and he felt foolish when he saw a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

"It's just chicken soup," he added apologetically. "But the chef made it out of the poulet roti, so… it should be pretty good."

She stared at him in surprise for a moment, and he felt himself growing discomfited by her scrutiny.

"I thought it might… make you feel better," he explained, averting his eyes.

"That's so sweet…" she murmured.

"Well, I aim to please," he replied flippantly. He gave an offhand little shrug, just to emphasize how totally at ease he was with this whole situation.

But when she reached out to take the bag out of his hand, their eyes met- and the happy little smile brightening up her pallid face made his stomach flip over.

It was becoming an increasingly familiar sensation, although it bothered him that he seemed to have no control over it. There was just something about the way Blair was looking at him right now- it made him want to… keep doing things things like that. Things that made her happy.

It was clearly some sort of feminine brainwashing technique, he thought. He'd seen it in action before- hell, Serena could get nearly any guy in school to do her bidding just by flashing her megawatt grin. But this was the first time it'd had any effect on him.

It was concerning, to put it mildly.

Fortunately, Blair didn't even notice his odd reaction, because she'd already taken a seat on her bed, opened the bag, and tucked into the plastic bowl of soup. Usually she just picked at her food, taking small bites and pushing it in circles around her plate- but she was slurping down that soup with gusto.

"Good?" he asked, watching in amusement as she paused to wipe a dribble of chicken broth off the outside of her mouth.

"I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was," she admitted with a self-conscious smile, setting the nearly empty container on her nightstand.

He shrugged off his sport coat and draped it across her vanity stool before taking a seat on the bed next to her.

"Oh, I don't want to get you sick," Blair said, scooting over to put some distance between them.

"I don't get sick," he replied, unperturbed.

"Yeah… me neither," she sighed.

But she didn't protest when he slid closer, the two of them lounging side by side against the pillows.

"So are you going to introduce us?" Chuck inquired, raising an eyebrow in the direction of her furry companion.

"Oh, that's just… Flopsy," she explained abashedly. "My dad got him for me one time when I was sick."

"When you were how old?"

"Six."

"Yeah, he's seen better days," Chuck commented disparagingly.

Blair scowled at him, tucking the floppy-eared animal under her arm as if to protect it from his disdain.

"How dare you?" she retorted. "Apologize."

He chuckled, his amusement only increasing as her glare was interrupted by another sneeze.

"Sorry… Flopsy," he said with mock-seriousness.

"He used to bring me chicken soup too," Blair commented, a wistful expression crossing her face. "And hot cocoa. And ice cream, when I had my tonsils out."

Chuck nodded.

Then he noticed that she was still looking at him, as if expecting more of a response.

"That sounds… nice," he offered.

"What about you?" she asked in a curious tone. "What happened when you were sick?"

Chuck shrugged.

"Don't really remember," he said evasively.

He did, of course, and it certainly hadn't involved any ice cream or stuffed bunnies. He was usually put under the care of an indifferent Swedish au pair, who'd been hired more for her physical attributes than her nursing abilities. When he was a little older, he'd realized that his being sick just inconvenienced and annoyed everyone, particularly his father, so he'd learned to take care of himself.

However, this didn't seem like an appropriate contribution to the "let's share happy childhood memories" conversation Blair was apparently looking to have.

"So…" He cleared his throat, then folded his hands behind his head and leaned back against the headboard. "What are we watching?"

Blair's lips parted in surprise when he gestured towards her television, which displayed a slowly-orbiting DVD screensaver icon.

"Oh, you don't have to stay," she said hesitantly. "I'm not really great company at the moment."

"I want to stay," he answered without thinking.

He realized as soon as he said it that it was the truth. He'd rather be here with Blair- in her unsexy pajamas, with her scraggly stuffed bunny tucked under her arm- than the Palace Bar. Or pretty much anywhere else, for that matter.

It was a disconcerting realization.

She smiled shyly at him, and his traitorous stomach did another little somersault.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Chuck averted his eyes and reached for the remote.

He regretted his decision the second he pressed "play." The screen displayed a familiar black and white vessel, its smokestacks towering against the computer-generated horizon.

"_Titanic_? Seriously?" he said in disbelief.

"What?" Blair replied defensively. "It's a good movie."

He said nothing, just raised his eyebrow.

"It's not like I knew you were coming over," she pointed out. "Anyway, I'm already halfway through."

Which was a goddamn lie, he thought. They hadn't even hit the iceberg yet.

But when Blair snuggled up against him, he sighed in resignation and let his head fall back against the pillows.

It was going to be a long night.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

A mere hour and a half later, the ship had finally sunk, and the two protagonists were spouting clichéd romantic dialogue at each other over the top of a makeshift raft. Conveniently enough, it was only strong enough to support one of them, thereby ensuring the film would end tragically.

For approximately the twentieth time that evening, Chuck rolled his eyes at the indignity of this situation.

Fortunately, Blair couldn't see him. She had gradually inched closer until her head was propped against his shoulder, her hand resting lightly on his chest- and in response, he had very nonchalantly slipped one arm around her back.

If this was cuddling, he thought, it really wasn't so bad. He was definitely enjoying the way her leg was draped across his thigh.

In fact, if she just moved it maybe… two inches upwards…

He suddenly realized that the front of his shirt was growing damp, and Blair's sniffles had become louder and more frequent.

"Are you crying?" he asked incredulously.

"No," came the muffled reply, followed by another sniffle.

He glanced at the screen, watching the doomed lovebirds exchange their tortured goodbyes, and then back down at the top of Blair's head- just in time to catch another long sniff.

"At least tell me that tears are the only thing you're leaking on me," he commented wryly.

"Shut up," she grumbled into his chest.

When did he start finding this sort of behavior endearing? It had to be an isolated phenomenon, he decided. A… Blair specific-one.

Because no way in hell would he put up with any other girl weeping all over his brand-new Armani shirt.

Eventually the film's credits scrolled to a close, bringing Celine Dion's assault on his ears to a merciful end. Chuck figured he should probably get up and head home… but he felt so comfortable, with his girlfriend's warm, soft body curled up against him, that he couldn't quite bring himself to pull away.

Trailing his fingers over the curve of her shoulder, he was rewarded when her leg slid another inch up along his thigh; even runny-nosed and flannel-clad, her proximity still had an undeniable effect on him. He shifted beneath her, trying to conceal his growing erection.

But then Blair sighed- a soft, content exhalation, as her hand trailed down his chest to his abdomen- and he felt his body respond despite his best efforts.

Maybe, he thought- eyeing her hand resting against his hipbone- if she wasn't too tired, he could talk her into a quick-

"_**ACHOO!"**_

Blair's whole body contorted as she sneezed directly into the front of his shirt.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's fine, I can just… throw this shirt out," he said in a dry tone, and chuckled when she smacked him lightly in retaliation.

Resigning himself to more sexless cuddling, Chuck settled back into the pillows and drew Blair against his shoulder, feeling her rumpled curls brush the underside of his jaw.

He'd just stay until she fell asleep, he decided.

Then he'd go home, have a couple of glasses of Scotch, download some porn, and relieve himself the old-fashioned way.

.

* * *

><p><em>Spinning on that dizzy edge<em>_  
><em>_I kissed her face and kissed her head__  
><em>_And dreamed of all the different ways I had__  
><em>_To make her glow_

_Why are you so far away? she said__  
><em>_Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you__  
><em>_That I'm in love with you._

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** This is about as fluffy as I get, so… hope you enjoyed! I'm curious what people's thoughts are on Serena's storyline, since I haven't actually decided on the outcome yet. And of course, I'm always interested to hear your thoughts on the CB relationship, and how you'd like to see it progress- although there will be drama and smut to come, that much is a given :)

Thanks, as always, to Terrabeth for her incomparable beta work. And her intense dislike of Christian Bale is duly noted, haha.

And thanks to my fabulous reviewers, you guys always keep me inspired: _maryl, flipped, Adriana, fiona249, Krazy4Spike, Stella296, Dr. Holland, bfan, ellibells, Ally, Elle, Aria, jojo4ever, CBBW3words8letters, Grace, livelybass, Aliennut, Questacious, dreamgurl, BiteMeBass, Infinitywr, jane, notoutforawalk, anon, Melanie, RabbitArchangel, olimgossip, bonafide11, louboutinlove, LeftWriter224, fswickar, Trosev, annablake, 2xlivegonzo, aliceeeebeth, nostalgiakills, twistedfate13, xoxsexylv57, missbabyv, Arazadia, Eve, and eckomoon. _


	18. Tongue Tied

**.**

**A/N:** So it's been many, many months since I updated this story… apologies for the delay, and hopefully some of you are still interested in reading more! If so, you're in luck, because this is about 10,000 words of CBness.

It's early November of S2 in TUF-land, and Chuck and Blair are now officially in a relationship, but haven't gone public yet. And just as a reminder, the story went AU as of 1x13, so 1x18, 2x01, etc., never happened here.

And it's still rated M. Like, serious business, maybe-don't-read-it-on-your-phone-in-a-public-place style M. Enjoy!

**Chapter 18**

The quiet _ding_ of the elevator echoed across the first floor of the Van der Bass penthouse.

Lifting his gaze from the investment portfolio on his lap, Bart Bass watched a petite brunette enter, her heels clacking against the marble as she strode confidently through the foyer.

Only to come to an abrupt halt when her gaze landed on him, her brown eyes widening with surprise.

She recovered in an instant, though, straightening her spine and curling her lips into a practiced society smile.

"Hello, Mr. Bass," she greeted him with perfect poise. Only the tightness of her fingers around her handbag strap hinted at any discomfort.

"Blair," he replied impassively, acknowledging her with a slight incline of his head.

"I… didn't know you were back from Singapore."

"Negotiations went faster than expected." He shrugged. "And I have business to attend to in New York."

"Well, I'm sure Lily is thrilled to have you back so soon," Blair said with forced warmth, her polite smile still firmly in place.

"Yes, she certainly did enjoy her new necklace," Bart responded dryly.

There was a silence that lasted a second too long.

"Well." Blair cleared her throat. "I'll just let you get back to your work then."

She was already heading towards the rear of the penthouse when Bart's next comment stopped her in her tracks.

"Serena's not here."

Blair turned back to face him, a puzzled crease wrinkling her forehead.

"Serena," he repeated in an obvious tone. "You just missed her. She left about twenty minutes ago. I believe she's gone… clubbing."

The last word was infused with derision.

"Oh." Blair exhaled a quick breath. "Actually… I'm here to see Chuck."

Bart regarded her skeptically.

"We're supposed to study together," she elaborated, gesturing towards the textbook clasped under one arm.

"Study?" Bart repeated, his lips twisting in a wry smile. "Are you sure you don't have my son confused with someone else?"

He eyed her up and down, taking in her bright red headband, neatly-pleated skirt, and cashmere sweater set. "Or is this part of some… school-mandated tutoring program?"

Blair frowned.

"Actually, it was Chuck's idea," she replied, tilting up her chin. "He's been doing… much better in his classes recently."

Bart took a moment to consider this dubious assertion.

Well, the girl wasn't necessarily lying, he supposed. It wasn't as if his son's grades had anywhere to go but up. And if Blair Waldorf had taken him on as some sort of academic charity project, who knew? Maybe it could actually help.

Maybe he could even lowball his first offer when it came time to buy Chuck's acceptance into one of the lower-tier Ivies…

Given his arrest record, though, it seemed doubtful.

"He's in his room," Bart replied finally, returning his gaze to the sheaf of papers in front of him. "_Studying_," he added in a droll tone.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Blair quickly made her way down the hallway- at least, as quickly as she could, without making it obvious to Bart how eager she was to escape his presence. When she reached Chuck's bedroom door, she paused for a moment, taking a deep, calming breath to steady the drumming of her heart.

Normally she had Upper East Side parents eating out of the palm of her hand, but there was just something about Bart Bass that threw her off her game. His icy blue gaze seemed to see straight through her usual Marcia Brady act.

And straight through her little cheerleading routine on Chuck's behalf.

She hadn't actually lied, though. Just… exaggerated. So what if the "recent" improvement in Chuck's grades was as recent as two weeks? Or that she was only assuming they'd improved because he'd actually attended most of his classes for a change?

Or that Chuck's enthusiasm over their study date had most likely stemmed from the assumption that there would be no actual studying involved?

Minor details.

With Phase One of her boyfriend-improvement initiative (Get Chuck to Go to Class) now complete, tonight was the launch of Phase Two: Get Chuck to Do His Homework. Since the operative entity (Chuck) was completely unaware of said initiative, the success of which depended upon him remaining that way, Blair had prepared for this deceptively simple "study date" with the precision of a general readying for battle.

She rapped quietly on the door.

"Come in," she heard on the other side, and pushed it open.

Chuck was lounging on his bed, one knee propped up and the other folded to the side, as he thumbed across his iPhone screen. He was still wearing his school clothes, minus the jacket and tie, but he'd undone several shirt buttons to reveal the base of his throat and a hint of dark chest hair beneath. His hair was just a bit rumpled, one dark lock curled temptingly against the edge of his brow.

"Hey," he murmured, smiling up at her.

It was one of those lazy, knowing smiles that made her breath catch in her throat and her cheeks flush pink.

"Hi," she chirped in response.

It was downright embarrassing the way her body reacted to him sometimes. One smile, and she turned into a besotted schoolgirl, with her heart and lungs and other… parts, all a-flutter with excitement.

Chuck deposited his phone onto the bedside table, then turned back to recline against the pillows, both hands folded behind his head. He regarded her with an expectant look.

As if he expected her to crawl right across his bed and jump him.

Ignoring the impulse to do precisely that, Blair cleared her throat and produced the textbook she still had tucked under one arm, depositing it onto his bed with a flourish. It was so heavy it bounced twice before finally laying still on the duvet.

Chuck frowned at it in confusion.

"I brought all of my notes," she said cheerfully, retrieving a spiral-bound notebook and leather pencil case from her oversized Bottega Veneta. "And my highlighters. I find it's helpful to color-coordinate my annotations, so I can cross-reference them with the textbook. You may have a different system, of course."

There was a beat of silence. Chuck's gaze flicked down to her study materials, and then back up to meet hers.

"If this is your idea of foreplay, Waldorf, I think we need to expand your repertoire," he commented, his voice laden with skepticism.

Blair rolled her eyes.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Chuck," she chided him. "I asked if you wanted to study together."

"Given the usual agenda of our 'yearbook committee meetings', I think I can be forgiven for assuming that 'study date' was a euphemism," he said dryly.

"Well, maybe it could turn into one later…" she replied in a coy tone.

Taking a seat on the side of his bed, she turned her head to gaze at him through lowered lashes, employing all of the seductive persuasiveness at her disposal.

He still looked unconvinced.

Maybe it was the color-coordinated highlighters, she thought to herself. She probably should've worked her way up to those.

"Chuck," she cajoled, "I need to do my homework, but I really wanted to see you. I figured we could… work first, and then play later."

She reached out to rest her hand on his thigh, and felt the muscle instantly contract beneath her fingertips. His eyes dropped down to her hand and lingered there- as if willing it to inch its way upwards- before rising back up to meet her gaze.

She batted her eyelashes several times and gave him her most enchanting smile.

"Fine," he conceded at last, begrudgingly.

In an instant, every hint of seductive longing had vanished from Blair's face, to be replaced by purpose and enthusiasm.

"All right," she said decisively. "We're supposed to read chapter 5, section 8, and then do the worksheet we got in class." As she spoke, her hands busily stacked notebooks, papers, and writing implements into neat piles along the foot of the bed.

Then she flipped open their calculus textbook to the correct section, which she'd already marked with a color-coded tab (yellow, for Thursday), kicked her shoes off, curled her feet up underneath her, and commenced reading about integration of trigonometric functions with a contented little sigh.

Several moments passed before she looked back towards Chuck, who had yet to move an inch.

"Aren't you going to get your book out?"

"Left it at school." He shrugged. "Don't worry, I can keep myself entertained."

She saw his hand start to reach back towards his phone.

"Oh, well, you can just share mine." She scooted over and patted the spot beside her on the duvet.

His hand paused, suspended in midair over the nightstand.

She looked back over her shoulder at him with an expectant smile and another innocent fluttering of her lashes.

Finally he heaved a sigh, rolled onto his knees, and crawled over to sit next to her.

_Victory_, she thought to herself, inwardly smirking in satisfaction.

"Just let me know if I'm reading too fast for you," she said cheerfully, as she uncapped her pink highlighter.

.

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

_Tick _

_Tick _

_Tick_

The room was so quiet that Chuck could actually hear his own watch marking off the passing seconds.

Which it had done, thousands upon thousands of times, since the beginning of this torturous little exercise.

Studying- at least, studying according to Blair Waldorf- was an extraordinarily slow process. Every other word needed to analyzed and highlighted. Sentences were copied verbatim into a notebook. And every single sample problem in the text needed to be independently worked out- despite the fact that the solution, and the steps needed to obtain it, were already right there in front of them.

If Blair were this meticulous about all of her schoolwork, he had no idea how she ever managed to get any of it done.

"Ready?" She glanced over at him, her hand poised to turn the page over.

"Mmm hmm."

But despite the mind-numbing tedium of spending two hours in front of a calculus textbook, Chuck had managed to keep himself entertained.

First, he decoded Blair's highlighting system. The colors were ranked according to some sort of importance scale- a system that she took very seriously, often spending several seconds with an adorable little furrow between her brows as she debated between yellow and pink ("medium high" and "high" importance, respectively). And when he'd picked up the blue marker to highlight a passage himself- mostly just to see her reaction, since she hadn't even used the blue one yet- she'd visibly flinched.

Blue must be "highest importance," Chuck decided.

Then he watched her do practice problems. She would cover the solution with the top of her scratch paper in order to avoid peeking, and then carefully work through the problem in her neat little handwriting, nibbling on her lower lip when she paused to think. Then she would slide the paper down and confirm that her answer was right, giving an unconscious little nod of satisfaction when it invariably was.

He was perversely curious to see how she would react if her answer weren't correct.

But it hadn't come up.

Mostly, though, Chuck just watched her. He watched her lips purse when she had to read the same passage multiple times. He watched her blow out a frustrated breath, stirring a wisp of hair that had strayed down her cheek, when a problem took longer than it evidently should have. He watched her tap the end of her pencil against her chin as she contemplated something, the eraser rebounding against the curve of her lower lip.

He watched the eraser slowly stroke its way along that plump, pink swell, and imagined replacing it with his finger. Or maybe his tongue.

Or maybe-

"Hey!" Blair's voice snapped his gaze upwards to meet her brown eyes, which were narrowed in suspicion. "You're supposed to be reading!"

Chuck shrugged unrepentantly.

"How do you expect me to pay attention to anything," he murmured, reaching out to coil that stray curl he'd been eying around his finger, "with you lying right next to me, looking like that?"

Her cheeks suffused with color as he tucked the stray lock behind her ear.

"Yes, well." Blair's attempt at primness couldn't quite disguise the smile tugging up the corners of her mouth. "We're almost finished, so… keep it in your pants, Bass."

She returned her attention to the last page of their assignment, while Chuck propped his chin on one elbow and unabashedly admired her.

Even lying on her stomach on his bed, Blair still looked perfectly put-together. Glossy curls spilled down her back, gleaming against the silky-soft cashmere. Her skirt was carefully tucked around her hips, not a pleat out of place. Her tights-clad legs were bent upwards at the knees and neatly crossed at the ankles. Every now and then, her toes would flex unconsciously inside the red fabric.

Chuck eyed them, pondering how quickly he could peel that material off of her legs.

"All done!" she announced suddenly, closing the book with a decisive snap.

"Thank God." Chuck wasted no time leaning in for a kiss.

He cupped one hand behind her neck, tangling his fingers into the curls at her nape, and slanted his mouth over hers; his other hand braced them against the bed as he arched her body up beneath him. His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting the sweet flavor of her lip gloss and the peppery hint of wintergreen on her breath.

"Chuck…" she protested softly, when he finally paused to take a breath.

"Mmm?"

His mouth moved down to her neck, leaving a hot trail of kisses from her jawline down to her shoulder.

"Chuck, we still need to do the worksheet."

Feeling her palms pressing into his chest, he drew back, confused, and Blair used the opportunity to slide out from under him and sit up.

"The what?" He rolled over onto his back, blinking stupidly.

"The worksheet we got in class," Blair explained in a patient tone.

She reached for her notebook and retrieved a stapled sheaf of papers from it.

_Jesus Christ_, he thought. Was this some kind of sick cosmic joke? After seventeen years of complete academic negligence, the universe must be punishing him with a girlfriend who wouldn't fuck him until he finished his math homework.

"I left mine in my locker," he sighed. He rubbed his hand across his forehead in frustration and willed his erection to abate. "You go ahead and do yours, and I'll just… wait here."

"Oh, no need for that," Blair said brightly. "I brought another copy."

She reached into her notebook and produced a second set of papers, which she held out towards him with an upbeat smile.

Chuck stared at it for a moment, eyes narrowing.

"Now why would you do that?" he asked abruptly.

"In case you forgot yours," Blair replied, pretending to not understand the problem.

He'd been mildly suspicious of her behavior ever since she'd shown up, but since he hadn't been able to rule out the possibility that homework was just Blair's idea of a good time, he'd played along.

But now… he couldn't decide whether he was more offended by the goal of her manipulations, or the fact that she considered him gullible enough to fall for them.

"And why do you care so much whether I do it or not?" There was increasing sharpness in his tone.

He rose to his feet and she followed suit, a furrow of concern appearing between her brows.

"Why are you so determined not to?" she countered, hands on her hips. "Do you _want_ to fail?"

"I've never cared much either way." Chuck said with a shrug, the motion more angry than disinterested. "But you obviously do. The question is, why?"

"So I want to help my boyfriend do well in school," Blair acknowledged. "Is that so wrong?"

"When it's just a nicer way of saying that my current performance doesn't meet your _standards_," he infused the word with mockery, "then yeah, I have a problem with it."

Blair exhaled in frustration.

"I can't imagine you ever pulled this crap with Nate," Chuck added with a derisive snort. "He would've fallen asleep or thrown himself out a window over an hour ago."

"I never _had_ to, because _Nate_ could keep himself off of academic probation!" Blair shot back.

The words seemed to echo across the silence between them.

Well, there it was, he realized. The first of many unfavorable comparisons.

But even though he'd seen this coming a mile away- even though he'd basically goaded her into saying it- he still felt a painful tightening sensation in his chest. Like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs.

Blair opened her mouth, and then closed it again, appearing at a loss for words.

"Look…" she said finally. "Nate does the best he can with his… abilities."

Chuck would've laughed at his friend's expense, if he hadn't been consumed with an almost overwhelming desire to break something.

"But you…" She made a helpless gesture towards him. "You don't even try. And you're ten times smarter than him, Chuck. Or any of the other guys at school. And I just… I don't understand why you're so determined not to show it."

The plaintive note in her voice struck an unexpected chord in him.

Because even though he'd heard a million speeches from Bart about "not living up to his potential" and "squandering the opportunities he'd been given", this felt different. The words weren't dripping with disparagement, or tinged with barely-concealed disinterest. They weren't motivated by how his failures reflected upon her, and they didn't leave him with the spiteful urge to prove her low expectations correct.

They sounded… invested. Like she genuinely believed he could do better- and what's more, like it actually _mattered_ to her.

And he couldn't recall anyone ever feeling that way about him.

He ran one hand through his hair, taking a long, deep breath.

"Then just say that," he said finally.

"What?" She frowned in confusion.

"Just _say _that," he repeated. "To me. Tell me what you're thinking, instead of trying to trick me into doing what you want."

Blair stared at him for a moment, dubious.

Well, he couldn't really blame her. It was a counterintuitive concept for him too.

"Okay…" she said doubtfully. "So… I wish you would try a little harder in school."

"Okay." He nodded.

"So… you will?"

He pursed his lips, pretending to consider the idea. "That depends. What's in it for me?"

Her eyes narrowed in indignation and he chuckled.

"I'm never going to be the kind of guy who gets off on doing schoolwork, Waldorf," he pointed out. "No matter how many highlighters you bring over."

Blair balked, her mouth opening slightly in outrage.

"Don't mock my system," she said defensively. "It has a proven track record of success, and just because-"

"Okay, fine," Chuck quickly interrupted. "I'm just saying… when it comes to schoolwork?" His voice dropped to a lower, more insinuating tone. "You're going to have to find another way to make it worth my while."

"And how exactly do you propose that I do that?" she asked suspiciously.

He eyed her up and down with an impudent little grin.

She rolled her eyes, looking flattered nonetheless. "You already get that."

"Well, how about a little wager?" he proposed. "Let's say, if I get every question on that worksheet right, then I get to choose the location, props and... wardrobe…" (he let his gaze linger over her body for a beat) "…for our next rendezvous."

Blair made a disbelieving noise.

"Chuck, you missed almost the entire first quarter of the semester, you barely paid attention to the reading, and you slept through class yesterday," she rattled off. "If you somehow manage to magically get all of those answers right, you can choose anything you want."

"Anything I want?" he echoed, raising his eyebrows.

Blair hesitated, belatedly realizing the implications of what she'd said.

"Well, not… _anything_…" she hastily backtracked.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific if you want me to agree to this bargain," Chuck said with a lascivious smile. "What, exactly, is excluded?"

"I… well…" Blair floundered for a moment, before she appeared to regain her wits. "No third parties, for one," she said sternly.

"I'd assumed as much." Chuck smirked. "What else?"

"No onlookers. No cameras. No recording, either audio or video." She ticked the items off her fingers one by one, narrowing her eyes at him as she did so.

"Just as long as we're not taking sextapes off the table forever," he agreed, his voice full of mock solemnity.

"No illicit substances," she went on, ignoring this interjection. "No bondage. No strap-ons. And nothing, I mean _nothing_, anywhere near the back door."

She punctuated the last statement by folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him, as if every item on that list had been his idea.

"I think I can agree to those terms." Chuck grinned. "Honestly, Waldorf, I'm kind of impressed by your imagination."

Blair just rolled her eyes and turned to retrieve her cell phone from her bag.

"How exactly did you imagine getting the strap-on involved, anyway?" he murmured, grinning even wider as he watched a pink flush spread all the way to the tips of her ears.

"Okay, I'm setting the timer for forty-five minutes," she declared. "Ready… set… GO."

Before she'd even said "go", Blair had already lunged onto the bed, annexing the textbook, the writing implements and all of the scrap paper for her private use.

Chuck just smiled wryly- he'd never expected her to play fair- and sauntered over to his desk to find a pencil.

Exactly forty-five minutes later, a chirpy beep indicated that their time was up.

"Pencils down," Blair announced. She finally removed her right arm from where it had been resting between them, carefully guarding her answers from Chuck's view.

Spreading both worksheets out before her, she fished a red pen out of her pouch and began correcting them. Chuck watched for a moment, perplexed.

"Don't you have an answer key?" he finally asked.

"No, I'm just using mine," she replied nonchalantly.

Of course, he thought, with an affectionate eyeroll.

She quickly worked her way down the two sets of answers, a little furrow of concentration appearing in the middle of her forehead. Chuck watched with satisfaction as it grew more and more pronounced at every matching answer she encountered.

He was lucky that she'd chosen to "tutor" him in math. If it had been almost any other subject- history, French, English- he would've been doomed to failure by all of the facts he'd never memorized, all of the vocabulary he didn't know, and all of the reading he'd never bothered to do.

But math was just a set of rules. And once you understood the rules- which had always seemed fairly intuitive to Chuck, after a modicum of effort- applying them was straightforward.

"Did you cheat?" Blair asked, looking up at him with an accusing stare.

"Off of you?" He snorted. "You were guarding your answers like a CIA missive."

Blair narrowed her eyes, obviously unconvinced, but returned her attention to the task at hand.

"There!" she said triumphantly. "Number 19."

Chuck glanced down at the second-to-last question, on which Blair's finger was firmly planted, then back-and-forth at their answers.

She was right- they weren't the same.

His brow creased as he read through her work, her neat penmanship easy to follow compared to his own chicken scratch.

And he heard her sudden intake of breath, a split second before he saw the error himself.

She'd forgotten to include a negative sign when she'd integrated the sine function. If she had, the two answers would've been identical.

Blair blinked, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

"Well, I guess that's settled." Chuck stretched back against the bed, folding his hands behind his head. "So the only question is, do I collect my prize now, or later?"

Blair remained motionless, still staring in disbelief at her erroneous answer.

"I think later," Chuck decided, running one hand through his hair. "We'll need a wardrobe change, plus I have a certain location in mind, so I'll need to check on availability…"

"But I wouldn't be averse to a little… _amuse-bouche_ right now," he added suggestively, and leaned forward to slide his hand up her back.

That's when he realized, from the stiffening of her spine, that her shock was starting to turn into anger.

Because Blair Waldorf did not react well to losing.

Not even at calculus homework.

And this was problematic, because it didn't seem like the kind of anger that led to ripping each other's clothes off.

"Hey…" He scooted forward, his voice dropping to a murmur. "You okay?" He started rubbing her shoulders, feeling the muscles tense further beneath his hands.

"I'm fine," Blair responded in a clipped tone.

"Look at it this way- you got exactly what you wanted, right?" he reasoned. "I did my homework."

"… I guess," she conceded, after a short pause.

"Plus, you caught your mis-" Feeling her body tighten under his palms, he quickly corrected himself. "Your _oversight_, before you turned it in."

"That's true," Blair admitted. "It would've tarnished my perfect homework average."

"And also…" he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her neck, his tongue flicking out to taste the velvety skin. "You're about to have an absolutely mind-blowing orgasm. So you've got that going for you."

He could feel her reluctant smile as he laid another kiss closer to her jawline.

"Is that so?" she murmured.

"Satisfaction guaranteed," he promised. "If it isn't mind-blowing enough, I'll even throw in a second one for free."

She pretended to consider this for a moment, as his hands finally took the opportunity to stroke those tights-clad thighs he'd been admiring all night long.

"That _does_ sound like a good deal." Her breath rushed out in a little gasp when his teeth sank into her ear. "Although I don't know how I feel about having sex with your dad sitting in the living room," she added, tilting her head towards the door.

Chuck shrugged.

"I've had sex plenty of times when he's been in the apartment," he replied nonchalantly.

Blair arched an eyebrow at him, unamused.

Chuck coughed, belatedly recognizing his gaffe, and then gave her his most contrite and charming smile.

"I just meant… I can guarantee you that he doesn't give a shit what I'm doing in here." He dropped another kiss onto her neck, feeling her resistance start to ebb. "He won't bother us, trust me."

He rolled her beneath him in one fluid motion and pressed his mouth to hers, their bodies melded together from shoulder to hip.

_Finally_, he thought to himself.

But just then, the sound of footsteps right outside the door made Blair stiffen beneath him.

And a second later, she was shoving him off of her and scrambling to her feet, while he cursed under his breath in frustration.

"I'm sorry, I can't, it's just too... icky," she whispered, glancing towards the door with a cringing motion. "I wish you'd told me he was going to be here, we could've met somewhere else."

"I didn't _know_ he was going to be here." Chuck sighed. "He doesn't keep me updated on his comings and goings."

Rolling onto his back, he readjusted his aching erection with little regard to propriety.

"Well, next time we should just go to your suite." Blair leaned over the polished mahogany dresser and examined her reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to reposition her headband and run her fingers through her curls.

"We could go over there now," he offered, wincing at the desperation in own voice.

"It's already past eleven, and my curfew's midnight." Blair looked at him with obvious regret.

Still, not as regretful as he was, Chuck decided. She wasn't the one who'd had a hard-on for almost three straight hours now.

If it persisted for much longer, he was pretty sure he'd need actual medical attention.

"How about tomorrow night after dinner?" she offered over her shoulder.

"Fine," Chuck conceded grumpily, fully aware that he sounded like a petulant child.

But apparently, that was what he turned into in a relationship. In lieu of coked-out hook-ups with beautiful, anonymous models he'd never see again, here he was delivering soup, giving back massages, and doing his homework like a pussy-whipped little bitch… only to be left to jerk off alone in his room at the end of the night.

How exactly had he allowed this to happen?

"Hey," Blair said softly, returning to sit next to him. "I'm sorry about tonight. Believe me, this isn't how I wanted it to end either."

She placed her hand on top of his and threaded their fingers together. Then she glanced up at him, lashes lifting to reveal brown eyes so luminous, they appeared almost liquid.

And just like that, all of his other thoughts vanished, like wisps into the ether.

"I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow," she murmured.

She leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek.

"You'd better believe you will," he returned, a deliberately sardonic note in his voice.

But he left his hand beneath hers, their fingers intimately twined together.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

As he descended the stairs into the darkened living room below, Bart suddenly became aware of the low murmur of voices.

He paused, a few steps from the bottom, just as two figures in the foyer came into view.

One was Chuck; the other, Blair Waldorf. They were standing side by side waiting for the elevator- Blair in her coat and heels, her bag neatly tucked over one shoulder, Chuck in a half-unbuttoned dress shirt and stocking feet.

And there was something- a certain hush of expectancy in the air, a little prickle of premonition- that kept Bart from making his presence known.

So he watched, eyebrows scaling his forehead in disbelief as Chuck leaned over, cupped Blair's chin under one hand, and kissed her.

And Blair, instead of slapping him across the face in outraged disgust… kissed him right back.

It wasn't a lewd or overtly sexual kiss. It was warm, intimate.

Almost… romantic.

Well _this_ was an interesting development, Bart thought to himself. Either little Miss Waldorf was going through a rebellious phase, or his son had pulled off quite the coup.

The couple pulled apart when the elevator arrived, sharing one last kiss before Blair disappeared behind the closing metal doors.

Chuck watched her go, but lingered for a moment afterwards. Hands in his pockets, head tilted to one side, he continued to stare at the closed doors for several long seconds, before he finally turned and sauntered back towards his bedroom.

An interesting development, indeed, Bart thought.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Blair fidgeted impatiently in her seat, casting another wary look over towards Chuck.

"Why won't you just tell me where we're going?" she asked suspiciously.

"Patience, _ma chérie_," he replied, unperturbed.

She looked out the window, but all she could see was the shadowy outline of Park Avenue townhouses.

"Are we going to the Met?" She craned her neck to try and see the block ahead.

Chuck didn't respond, just leaned back with a self-satisfied expression on his face.

"Because I thought I made it very clear that onlookers were out of the question," she said sharply. "Plus, their security is no joke. They wouldn't even let me into the Friedlander exhibit ten minutes before closing, and-"

"Blair, you'll find out where we're going when we get there," he interrupted her.

She huffed indignantly and folded her arms across her chest.

"I just think I have a right to know if you're hauling me off to some sort of creepy sex dungeon, that's all," she muttered.

"Don't worry, I save the dungeon for special occasions." He smirked.

The limo rolled to a stop, and Blair peered out into the night. She blinked in consternation when she saw a familiar brick steeple towering above them.

"Okay, I am _not_ having sex with you in there," she declared with a vigorous shake of her head. "Just because they're Unitarians doesn't mean we can -"

"We're at a stoplight, Waldorf," he said dryly.

"Oh."

Suitably chastised, she was silent for the next several blocks while she reconsidered her strategy.

She'd basically given Chuck carte blanche to plan this little tryst, which was worrisome because… well, it was Chuck. He'd probably performed every kinky sex act she could think of, and quite a few that hadn't even occurred to her.

So if he'd decided to take her to some sort of… masked prostitute orgy, she needed to know, so that she could start planning her escape route.

"Chuck…" she wheedled, strategically placing one hand on his upper thigh. "Can't you just give me a little hint?"

"I figured the outfit was a hint." He deliberately eyed her up and down, and she felt her skin flush under his approving glance.

He'd texted her a long list of wardrobe requirements, which had included a headband, white blouse, plaid skirt, knee-high socks and high-heeled Mary Janes.

Oh, and white cotton panties with pink bows on them. He'd been oddly specific on that point.

And she did happen to own a pair exactly like that, which had made her suspicious that he'd been rooting around in her lingerie chest.

"But this is just what I wear every day to…" she trailed off as she looked out the window and saw them pull up beside a familiar brick façade. "… school."

Eyebrows raised, she turned to give him a dubious look.

"Really, Bass?" she said skeptically. "How are we even going to get in? It's like 11 pm. The building's been closed for hours."

He removed a gold skeleton key from his pocket, dangling it in front of her by its crimson ribbon.

Her mouth dropped open.

"Where did you get that?" she asked in disbelief. "Serena was the only one who had one."

"No, Serena was the only one who got _caught_ with one," he corrected her.

His driver pulled open the door with an understated flourish, and Chuck gestured towards it.

"After you," he murmured.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"But what if someone catches us?" Blair hissed under her breath, as she followed Chuck down the first floor corridor. "What about the security guard?"

"Hector's shift ends at 11," he replied calmly. "And it is currently…" -he turned his wrist, squinting in the dim light to read the face of his Piaget- "11:20."

"So you're _sure_ there's no one else here?" she whispered, still skeptical.

"Blair, I did my research," he said wryly. "Trust me."

Somewhat mollified, she followed him up the west stairwell and down the second floor corridor, until he eventually came to a halt in front of one particular room.

At which point, she couldn't help a little smirk.

"Mr. Hall's class, really?"

"Well, I figured that since you seem so very _fond_ of calculus," Chuck replied, opening the door with a twist of the knob, "perhaps you'd like to earn some… extra credit."

He pressed one hand to the small of her back and guided her forward into the darkened classroom, pausing to flip on the lights as he pulled the door closed behind them.

The room smelled like it always did- chalk dust, wood polish, and that cheap cologne Mr. Hall bathed himself in every morning- but the drawn shades lent it a certain illicit intimacy.

Blair walked forward to the heavy oak teacher's desk, and then turned on her heel, facing him with a speculative gleam in her eye.

"So what exactly did you have in mind?" she asked, intrigued.

"Well, Miss Waldorf." Clearing his throat and adjusting the knot of his tie, Chuck walked around to the other side of the desk, his expression suddenly austere. "I'm afraid we have a problem with your most recent homework assignment. It wasn't quite on par with your usual work."

Blair's eyes narrowed in confusion… then widened in realization.

"Role play?" she said, amused. "Seriously, Bass?"

"I assure you I'm quite serious, Miss Waldorf," Chuck said sternly, planting both hands on the surface of the desk. "And when you're in my classroom, I expect you to respect the rules and address me appropriately. Are we clear?"

After taking a moment to process this scenario- as well as the rather pleasant effects of Chuck's authoritative tone upon her body- Blair tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Yes, Mr. Bass," she said in a low, throaty voice.

"Now… as I was saying. Unless we do something to address this little… drop in your performance, it might lower your average in the class to an A-minus. Or even…" He paused for effect. "A _B-plus_."

Blair's look of dismay was only partly feigned.

"But there must be some make-up work I can do," she pleaded, her eyes searching his face for signs of approval. "Or maybe… a special assignment?"

With a purposeful swing to her hips, she walked towards Chuck until they were only inches apart. Then she trailed one hand down the lapel of his blazer and gazed up at him with a beguiling flutter of her lashes.

"Please, Mr. Bass," she implored. "I'll do _anything_."

His eyes swept up and down her body appraisingly.

"I think we could come to some sort of arrangement," he said finally, before turning to take a seat in the teacher's chair.

With a faint squeak of the wheels, he rolled away from the desk and turned to face her, his fingers steepled casually against his chest.

"Why don't you show me…" He paused, his eyes narrowing speculatively. "…just how _dedicated_ you are to your academic future?"

Taking that as her cue, Blair sauntered over and stepped between his parted knees.

"Oh, I'm _very_ dedicated," she promised in an earnest tone. Hands braced on his thighs, she lowered herself to her knees, and then slid one hand upwards until she was stroking the prominent bulge at the front of his trousers. Coyly biting her lower lip, she looked up at him through lowered lashes.

Only the slight hitch in his breathing betrayed his reaction.

With nimble fingers, she undid his pants and pushed aside his boxers, wrapping her hand around his already-hard length.

"Oh my…" she said in a breathless voice, eying it with awe and just a bit of apprehension. "You're so… _big_."

His cock twitched in her hand at the compliment.

She pumped it slowly, tantalizingly, enjoying how warm and smooth it felt in her grasp, while she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Leaning forward, she darted her tongue out for a quick, teasing stroke along his length, before taking him all the way into her mouth.

It only took a couple of minutes before she could tell he was getting close, just from the tempo of his breathing and the way his hips started involuntarily arching upwards. She dipped down into a particularly deep stroke and heard him swallow back a groan, before he grasped her shoulders to push her backwards.

Holding back a little smirk of satisfaction, she gazed up at him expectantly.

"Very impressive, Miss Waldorf," he said, sounding remarkably in control of himself. "Definitely A-plus work."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Bass?" Blair slid her hands up his thighs in a provocative motion.

"Well." Chuck cleared his throat. "I'm sure you could use a recommendation letter for your Yale application." He trailed one finger along her cheekbone. "And I'd certainly be willing to expound on what an… exceptional student you are, if…"

Her eyes widened.

"If?" she echoed eagerly.

Taking her hand in his, he gently pulled her to her to standing position between his parted thighs.

"If you show me what else you can do," he said in a low voice. With one hand, he reached out and flicked open the top button of her blouse, and then settled back in his chair, motioning for her to continue.

She nibbled on her lower lip in feigned modesty, pretending to hesitate a moment, before undoing the rest of the buttons with slow, deliberate motions. She could feel the heat of his gaze as it took in the newly exposed flesh, the rounded curves of her breasts barely covered by the skimpy demi bra.

"Very nice." Chuck trailed one finger up the outside of her bare thigh, underneath her skirt, until he reached the edge of her matching panties. He paused for a moment, stroking the decorative little bow with the pad of his finger. "I don't think you'll be needing these."

Blair hooked her thumbs beneath the elastic and slid her panties down her legs with a seductive shimmy. Chuck's eyes followed them all the way to the floor.

"Up on the desk," he instructed, with a possessive squeeze of her thigh.

Feeling her body respond to the note of command in his voice- God, there was just something about that sexy, take-charge tone that got her so wet- she obediently hopped up onto the edge of the desk and waited for him to join her.

But he didn't. He remained in his seat, his eyes devouring her with a speculative gleam.

"Touch yourself for me."

At this, Blair hesitated. Because she'd never done _that_ in front of anyone.

And she felt overwhelmed by a sudden, unwelcome surge of self-consciousness.

Sensing her discomfort, Chuck shifted closer, until his hands were resting atop her thighs.

"I won't tell anyone," he murmured soothingly, rubbing his thumb along the sensitive inside of her knee.

Blair took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.

She could do this, she decided.

Letting her eyes drift closed, she slid one hand up beneath her skirt and in between her legs. Then she drew one finger across her folds- which were almost embarrassingly slick- and circled her clit with the tip of her finger.

A pleasured sound escaped her lips.

She heard Chuck's intake of breath, and opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression absolutely mesmerized.

Well, she _did_ like to see that.

Regarding him from beneath half-lowered lashes, she repeated the motion, propping herself against one hand and arching her back slightly as she did so. And then again, and again, as she reveled in the heat in Chuck's gaze, the tension in his body.

The way he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

"Mmm," she hummed in enjoyment, letting her eyes flutter closed as her fingers made another pass along her wet slit.

A moment later, she let out a gasp of surprise when she felt her hand suddenly pulled away. Her eyes flew open just in time to see the top of Chuck's head between her thighs.

And after that, coherent thought was no longer an option.

Because all she could focus on was his mouth- tasting her, teasing her, until every inch of her body felt like it was pulsing with arousal.

Chuck ran his hands up the back of her calves and propped her feet against his chair; some part of her brain dimly registered the squeak of her heels against the well-worn leather, the grip of his hands gently pulling her knees further apart.

The soft moan that she vaguely recognized as her own.

Her head lolled to one side as she felt her body succumb to the sweet torment of his tongue, lapping, swirling, flicking against her clit until she was practically mindless with need.

Her fingers, of their own volition, threaded through his hair to pull him closer; her other arm, which was bracing her above the desk, began to tremble from the effort.

Two more languid strokes of his tongue almost pushed her over the edge, her hips bowing upwards as a bolt of pleasure shot through her.

"Fuck," she gasped out.

Chuck pulled his head away, and she whimpered in frustration.

"I don't allow swearing in my classroom, Miss Waldorf," he said sternly; his tone belied the heat in his eyes as they raked her body up and down.

He stood, causing the chair to roll backwards and her feet to slip from their perch.

Then he grasped her around the waist, pulled her to her feet and turned her around in one quick motion.

"And you know how I discipline students who don't behave." The low voice vibrating against her ear made a shiver of delight run up her spine- as did their current position, which she'd discovered she was quite fond of.

So she braced herself on the desk with both hands, her back arching in anticipation.

With one hand still securely holding her hip, his other hand slid up the back of her thigh, lifting her skirt until she could feel it caressing the bare curve of her ass.

A moment later, his hand was gone.

Only to return immediately with a sharp, forceful _smack_.

"Chuck!" she squeaked in surprise.

"Mr. Bass," he corrected her, nipping gently at her neck.

_Smack_.

Her protests caught in her throat when the initial sting of pain produced unexpected aftershocks of pleasure. Little tingles that shot straight to her hot, throbbing core.

_Smack_.

Her breath rushed out in a soft gasp.

_Smack_.

And another gasp that turned into a moan.

"Now are you going to be a good girl?" he murmured. His palm languidly caressed her backside, soothing the tender flesh. "Or do I need to get out the ruler?"

She could feel him now, hard and throbbing against the inside of her thigh. And she needed him so badly she _ached_.

"I'll be good, Mr. Bass," she said throatily, arching back in invitation. "I promise."

She'd barely gotten the words out when he thrust into her, eliciting groans of satisfaction from both of them. For a moment they just paused, his head resting heavily against her shoulder, and savored the sensation. Marveling at how perfectly, how completely, their bodies fit together.

Then he gripped her hips with both hands and began to fuck her, with slow, controlled thrusts.

Which soon became faster, deeper, more erratic, as arousal began to overtake them both.

Her hips pressed back to meet every stroke, sounds of pleasure and encouragement and need falling from her half-parted lips.

"Fuck, Blair…" he groaned against her neck, breaking character for the first time since they'd entered the room. "You feel so fucking good…"

He slid his hands up her chest, inside her open blouse, and cupped both breasts in his palms. He thumbed the taut nipples through their thin covering.

"So good…" he repeated, as he pressed his mouth against her throat.

Suddenly desperate to feel him, to taste him, Blair reached back and grabbed his neck, pulling his head forward and turning hers to the side so that their lips met.

It was a hot, open-mouthed kiss, their tongues tangling aggressively, as his hips continued to pump into her from behind.

She could feel herself approaching her peak, the tide of pleasure rising higher and higher until it was almost unbearable.

Then she felt Chuck's hand move beneath her skirt and slide upwards to stroke her slick, swollen clit.

And her senses exploded like a firecracker, her whole body jerking from the intensity. Currents of pleasure radiated outward from her core, thrumming through her veins until they electrified every inch of her body. Her breath came out in sharp, panting gasps. Her arms nearly collapsed beneath her.

She was still shaking when she felt Chuck reach his own peak, spending himself inside her with one last, desperate thrust. He buried his face against her neck and groaned- a deep, throaty sound that vibrated across her skin. Both of them trembled as he continued to grind his hips against her.

Long minutes later, they finally grew still. Chuck's arms remained wrapped around her waist, his head cradled against the side of hers.

"Fuck…" he breathed out.

Well, she wholeheartedly agreed with that.

Blair finally raised her head- which took an inordinate amount of effort- and looked out over the neat rows of school desks, the LCD projector propped on a back table.

The freshly-cleaned chalkboard on the side wall, still bearing traces of that morning's lecture.

And an unexpected giggle bubbled up in her throat.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking," she murmured, "that if Mr. Hall had any idea what we just did in his classroom… he would never teach in here again."

"Well, that would be a shame." Chuck brushed a strand of hair off her cheek and pressed his lips against it. "I was finally starting to enjoy this class."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"I wondered if you were ever coming to bed," Lily commented, smiling over the top of her reading glasses.

Bart shrugged out of his suit jacket and loosened his tie as he walked towards the dressing room.

"One of the drawbacks of doing business with a time zone thirteen hours ahead," he said impassively.

"I know, I know. 'The market never sleeps'," she quoted him in a wry voice.

He was halfway done unbuttoning his shirt when he heard her clear her throat.

"But I was thinking…" she began. "It might be nice if we could get the whole family together for brunch on Sunday. I know Serena and Eric have missed spending time with you."

Bart seriously doubted that. If anything, Serena probably appreciated that he hadn't been around to scrutinize her comings and goings.

But he had been more preoccupied than usual lately. So if one family brunch was all it took to placate Lily, he wasn't going to argue.

"And I feel like I've barely seen Charles these last few weeks," she added.

Bart's hands paused in the process of undoing the last button, as he recalled what he'd witnessed the night before.

"Sunday should be fine," he replied. "I don't have any commitments until mid-afternoon."

He continued undressing in silence for a few moments, considering how to broach the subject.

"You're… fairly well-acquainted with Blair Waldorf, right?" he asked finally.

"Of course," Lily replied, sounding puzzled by the change in subject. "She and Serena have been best friends since kindergarten."

"And my understanding is that she's basically betrothed to Nate Archibald?" He phrased the statement as a question.

"Well, they _were_ together for quite a long time- but apparently they broke up several weeks ago," Lily said, a note of regret in her voice. "Anne was rather distraught about it, as you can imagine… but you know how fickle teenagers can be."

Bart felt inexplicably relieved by this information.

"Why do you ask?" she wanted to know.

He turned towards the doorway of the dressing room, to find his wife studying him with a perplexed little furrow between her brows.

Well, he couldn't blame her. Inquiring about the adolescent dating habits of their children's friends wasn't exactly typical behavior for him.

"Blair was over here last. With Chuck," he said gruffly.

Lily continued to look at him, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"And they seemed… extremely close." He averted his eyes and began to undo his cuff links.

"Well, Blair and Charles have always been good friends," Lily said offhandedly.

Bart sighed, not wanting to go into more explicit details.

"They were kissing," he said in abrupt tone.

"_Really_." Lily removed her reading glasses and sat up straighter, suddenly intrigued. "Did you ask him about it?"

Bart almost scoffed aloud at the implication that he and Chuck regularly had heart-to-hearts about his love life.

"I haven't had the opportunity," he said instead. "But you know how he is with women." He gave a little shrug. "I'm sure it's nothing serious."

"I know how _you_ were with women," Lily countered. "Before you met me."

He couldn't help a wry little smile of acknowledgement.

"And Charles is more like you than either of you is willing to admit," Lily tilted her head to the side in contemplation. "Maybe settling down with the right girl is exactly what he needs."

"I'll try to wrestle some details out of Serena during our spa date tomorrow," she added in a conspiratorial tone.

Bart couldn't imagine that his seventeen-year-old son, who'd dedicated his entire life thus far to womanizing and delinquency, had any interest in settling down. But if Lily wanted to indulge some romantic notions about the power of love, he wouldn't be the one to disillusion her.

And who knows, he thought. Maybe whatever Chuck had going on with the Waldorf girl would actually teach him some respectability for a change.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Goddamn," Chuck exhaled in a burst.

Blair slumped back against the seat next to him, struggling to regain her own breath.

Goddamn was right, she thought. Clearly something about their little roleplaying adventure had gotten her all… worked up, because the second they'd gotten back into the limo, she'd basically mauled Chuck like a hungry lioness.

She turned her head and eyed the red scratches down the front of his chest, visible through the gap in his ripped-open shirt. He'd probably want to put some Neosporin on those, she thought to herself.

"If this is the sort of treatment I'm going to get every time I kink things up a little," Chuck murmured, still sounding slightly winded, "then I am… fully on board."

She couldn't help the little grin that curled up the corners of her mouth. The fact that she- prim, straitlaced little Blair Waldorf- was capable of satisfying _Chuck Bass_, the reputed king of sexual debauchery, to the point of dazed exhaustion…

Well, she'd be lying if she said she didn't take a certain satisfaction in that.

"Just to be clear…" She said pointedly. "Turnabout's fair play. So don't think your little disciplinary action in there isn't going to have… _repercussions_."

She figured she'd better make it clear that he wouldn't always have the upper hand in these situations.

Especially since she'd already started brainstorming a couple ideas of her own.

"Oh really?" Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Now _that's_ the kind of tutoring session I might actually enjoy."

Blair smirked.

"I have to say, I expected something slightly more debauched than a schoolgirl fantasy, Bass," she said teasingly. "Seems so very… conventional."

"Well, it was less of a schoolgirl fantasy and more of a… Blair Waldorf fantasy," he corrected her, taking a moment to refasten his pants.

"One, I might add," he murmured, "that I've been having for… quite some time."

He gave her a lingering look that made her heart forget to beat for a moment, and then trip over itself attempting to catch up.

"You're cold," he commented suddenly.

Blair looked down to see that her bare legs were dotted with goosebumps.

"Well, _someone_ in the costuming department insisted on knee socks instead of tights," she said in mock accusation.

"Easier access," Chuck explained with a grin.

Then he reached under her knees and pulled her legs over his own, so that her thighs were draped sideways across his lap, and began to stroke the chilled flesh with his palm. Starting just below the knee, he rubbed upwards to the hem of her skirt, and then back down again.

The warming effect was immediate. It seemed to heat not just her legs, but every inch of her body.

And it felt completely natural to curl up against him, her head resting against his shoulder, while his other arm curved around to cradle her back.

"Mmm." She made a contented little sound.

It occurred to her, then, that she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this… genuinely _happy_.

As if all of her stresses and worries, the pressure of expectations that she felt every minute of every day, couldn't touch her right now. And all that existed was the two of them, snuggled up together in their private little cocoon.

In the exact spot, she realized, where her life had first veered off its prescribed course. Almost a full year ago.

"Chuck?" she murmured, idly trailing her fingers down the front of his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"You know it's almost our one-year anniversary?"

He looked down at her, eyebrow arched.

"Anniversary of…? _Oh_," he realized. "Well, that _is_ an important one."

"We should do something special to celebrate," she decided.

"I think I could come up with something suitably… special," he said in a suggestive tone.

Blair rolled her eyes.

"I mean _actually _special, not like… Chuck's pervy bedtime fantasies special," she replied dryly.

"Hey," he said in mock affront. "It's not all sex all the time in here, you know. I can do romance."

"Is that so?" She sounded skeptical.

"Sure." He traced his fingers along the length of her spine. "I can get some flowers, some candles. Throw on some Sinatra. The whole nine yards."

"Chuck Bass is a romantic," she laughed. "Who knew?"

"Well, now you do," he said in a low voice. "That's all that matters."

She snuggled her head back into the crook of his neck, feeling as though a silly grin had been permanently plastered to her face.

Who would've thought, she contemplated dreamily. That after years of hoping and planning and waiting for some far-off day when she and Nate would be perfectly happy together… she'd ended up finding happiness _now_, in the present. With the last person she'd ever expected to fall for.

And now that they were finally here, she had no idea why she'd resisted her feelings for so long.

"I love you," she murmured softly.

For a long moment, she was certain that the words she'd heard were just her own thoughts, echoing around in her mind.

Until she realized that Chuck had gone completely still, his hand frozen in place on her leg.

_Oh God._

She'd said it out loud.

She'd said it out loud, and now Chuck wasn't saying anything back. His body had gone tense and motionless beneath hers, their intimate position suddenly unbearably awkward.

As she waited through what felt like the longest silence in the history of time.

Five seconds passed, then ten. It felt like years.

Until finally, Chuck cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, a forced casualness to his voice, "any time you want to show me how much… I'm always up for another round."

_Oh God_.

She'd accidentally, in the midst of some endorphin-induced hallucination, told Chuck Bass that she_ loved_ him. And he'd responded with the Bassian equivalent of a thank you.

She'd never been so mortified in her entire life.

She glimpsed the doors of her building through the limo window and felt a momentous surge of relief. There was no way to salvage this shitshow, but at least she could make a timely escape.

"Well, I should get going." She swung her legs off of his lap before the limo had even rolled to a complete stop, carefully avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, it's, uh… pretty late," he said in a strained voice. "So, I'll… call you tomorrow?"

"Sure." She made a weak attempt at a smile, still not looking at him.

Realizing that her handbag was across the seat, on the other side of Chuck, she made a quick lunge to grab it.

Which Chuck apparently misinterpreted as an attempt at a goodbye kiss, and turned his head so that his lips brushed awkwardly against the side of her mouth.

"Okay, well… goodnight." She grabbed her bag and practically dove out the door of the limo.

She kept her head up and her shoulders back as she marched towards her penthouse; if Chuck were to glance out the window, she didn't want him seeing the way she felt right now.

Like a heartsick little girl, desperately blinking to keep the tears from falling from her eyes.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Oh dear. Looks like we've had an unexpected L-bomb detonation. Thoughts?

Thanks as always to my beta Terrabeth, for spiffing this up for me. If you haven't read her latest two chapters of "Criminal", you should go do so right now. And special thanks to Ellen (Dr. GG), whose reviews inspired me to continue with this story when I was considering giving up on it.

And thanks to the rest of my lovely reviewers, for always making my day: _Stella296, notoutforawalk, Trosev, Eternally Romantic, an, bfan, jojo4ever, flipped, thegoodgossipgirl, Rd, infinitywr, Dr. Holland, Dr. GG, Questacious, coleyoo, QueenMabGG, Whatevergirl1985, Eve, louboutinlove, Grish, ellibells, dreamgurl, CB, Kreist, Moe, livelybass, jane, ggloverxx19, maryl, inevitablechair, Rebeccajill, Arazadia, mkersey, bells-mannequin, nygirl26, fiona249, strangeless, haley, Leftwriter224, TeamSethGroupie17, Aliennut, Drown-in-sequins, madetobemrsbass, BiteMeBass, Abi, BBCBPP130, annablake, chinuchan-inulover, buy the stars, Where's Waldorf, KM, Unknown63, smephii, leightedandnian, , Anne, Gricelda, Elizabeth Stanton, Dimples84, bowtie-bass, Ashley, Beexoxox, hipskip11, Cool Sharry, Camilin, Alice Hell, blueberry23cupcake, and vale1103. _


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